Somber Resplendence
by Tarantella
Summary: A slave is forced to flee her home in Dras Leona after a horrible event occurs. As she joins a traveling group of what seem to be outlaws for the sake of survival, she finds that they are destined for something far greater. MurtaghOC
1. The Brother and the Sister

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Eragon_.**

**Wow, never thought I'd say that. This is my first _Eragon_ fic so I'm still working out little things.**

**BE FOREWARNED: the characters from the book aren't for the first few chapters.**

**I'd like to thank the random guy from Tropical Smoothie Café for giving the name 'Garrick' to use. He is probably not reading this, never will, and I'm fine with that. Thank you anyway.**

**Also thank you to AFI for being my muse when looking for a title. You're not reading this either.**

**Thank you readers for reading this. I KNOW you're reading this.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Screams and crying. Those were most memorable. Not the curses of men or jolly shouts of the man in bright clothes, who waved his arms enthusiastically before crowds of rich, corrupt men looking on coldly with their scrutinizing eyes. Fat or gaunt, short or tall, straight-backed or crooked, they all had the same gleam in their gaze.

_Greed_

The enthusiastic man would call out a few sentences, wave his hand at what was on display, and start the bidding. An old noble would raise a hand, maybe a merchant or two, the jolly man would stomp his foot in finality, and it would be done. Another life set on a course of misery and pain at such a simple gesture.

The screams and crying took place behind the large wooden platform in the middle of the dirty street. Men looked into the distance with lost expressions, as if asking a higher knowledge 'How did it come to this?'. Women shrieked and cried, clinging to small, filthy children as thin as rails, or else trembling, hand in hand with the men. The children were all in tears, their snotty noses in need of a wipe. All except two, who stood behind a man looking as if for an escape.

"And here, lords and ladies, we have a pretty, young lass! Are you in need of help with your dishes or daily chores? This youthful wench devotes herself to any task set before her and finishes it without a stop! Now, shall we start the bidding at one hundred crowns?"

Two smoky-blue eyes looked away from the speaker to a boy standing a few feet taller than her. She tugged on his ragged shirt and he looked down, tanned face solemn.

"Where is Elsye going?" she asked curiously. The boy looked back up at the woman, who was now being led off of the platform to an old, rotund man with a ruddy face.

"With that man, there," he responded, nodding at the buyer. "She's to live with him now."

"Like how Jurdan went to live with that blonde lady?" asked the girl.

"No, not quite like that," said the boy, his eyes still fixed on the slave-girl. Her baleful, amber eyes were locked on his as she mouthed a few words. He nodded, and the line moved up a step. The grating sound of chains along the street rung in his ears and he clenched his teeth in anger, watching a boy around ten years of age climb up the steps onto the platform, stumbling over the chains around his ankles.

"Garrick," said the girl.

"Yes?"

"Is that lady his mother?" She pointed at a sobbing woman at the front of the line, who was looking away in anguish from the twig of a boy standing before the crowd. The boy, Garrick, took a deep breath.

"Yes, she is," he said.

They continued to watch as the boy walked off with a hook-nosed man and the woman was summoned to the platform. She sobbed as she slowly sank to the ground, her eyes on her son being led away. The auctioneer, for that is what the man in bright clothes was, brought his hand down on her face with a selection of angry reprimands. The woman straightened, looking at him with watery eyes as he stomped his foot once again, sentencing her to serve a pompous-looking woman in rich clothing.

The woman pulled out a decorated fan and handed it to the mournful woman, saying something to her as she began to walk at a brisk pace. The woman gave one last look back to where her son had gone before running along to keep up with her new mistress, fanning all the way. Garrick felt another sharp tug on his shirt and he looked down. The eyes were on him again.

"How come that boy's not going with his mother?" asked the girl sharply.

"Because the man did not buy her as well," said Garrick calmly.

"But the man who buys me, he'll buy you too, right Brother?" asked the girl. Garrick paused. "Right?"

"I don't know, Alycie," he said finally. He saw a spark of fear in her eyes. "Don't worry, we'll still both be in Dras-Leona. You'll see me in town," he added hurriedly. "I promise you'll see me."

"You won't leave, will you?" asked the girl.

"No. Alycie, I'd never leave you on your own," said Garrick, knealing down to her height. He brushed a hand over her face, tucking a long strand of soft, light-brown hair behind her dirty, little ear, smiling in reassurance, though it completely went against his true feelings.

"Will I see Elsye again too?" asked Alycie.

"I don't know," said Garrick sadly.

"You liked her didn't you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes I did. Very much."

A balding man was led off of the platform and the man in front of the siblings was pulled up in front of the crowd. He looked around frantically, breathing hard. Garrick watched him along with Alycie and the crowd.

"Lords, Ladies, I present to you here the finest specimen of a man you are ever to come across. Quite a bargain. Strong arms, legs, and quite a mind as well. Let's start the bidding at--"

The man suddenly turned and jumped past the two guards, landing hard on the street. He scrambled to his chained feet, running awkwardly past the pedestrians. He barely got twenty feet. Soldiers had captured him in no time, leading him back to the stand. The auctioneer ordered him to the prison and the soldiers dragged him off shreiking madly.

Garrick suddenly felt himself being pulled away from Alycie. He reached out for her, screaming her name, but the soldiers overpowered him with their steely grip. He was pushed out into the middle of the platform, where stage fright immediately took him. He stared at the crowd of people, which, from the ground, had seemed so much smaller than he now found it. So many pairs of eyes were fixed on him, the gleam clearly visible.

"Here is a strapping young lad just beginning adolescence at the age of thirteen! He is equally skilled in hunting, labor, and has had a fair education in math for figuring debts and prices. And at this age there's plenty of time for him to be trained to a specialty. A valuable and docile boy if I ever did see one. We start at two hundred crowns."

Garrick looked around, seeing an old man with a crooked nose raise a hand, his mouth in a stern frown.

"Two hundred! Anybody to top that? Anybody? Two hundred going once, going twice--"

A curly-haired noblewoman raised a hand lazily.

"Three hundred! Three hundred is the current bid! Three hundred going once! Twice!"

A short, portly man in the back raised his hand quickly.

"Four hundred! That's four hundred now! Four hundred going once! Twice! SOLD! To...ah, the merchant, Fexir Ghaovson!" shouted the auctioneer. Garrick felt his insides go cold. Merchant!

"Sir! Sir please! My sister, she and I have to stay together! She's only eight! I'm all she's got! Please don't take me away from her!" he begged the man, falling to his knees.

"You're bought now," said the auctioneer, stepping back away from Garrick. "Take it up with your Master. It's his choice whether to buy your kin."

Garrick was escorted off of the stage by a soldier, rounding the crowd until they met his new Master. Fexir Ghaovson was a renowned merchant for finery such as gold and jewels. He was also notable for his cruelty. He paid the soldier the four hundred crowns and looked Garrick up and down.

"A little scrawny, but you'll do," he decided finally, grabbing Garrick's wrist in a tight grip.

"Sir! Wait sir! My sister, she--"

"Insolent boy!" shouted Fexir, smacking his hand against Garrick's face. "You will address me as Master at all times! Is that clear!?"

"Yes Master," said Garrick. "Master, my sister is up there! Please don't separate us!"

"I've no more money to waste on slaves, least of all that twig of a girl," said Fexir, eyeing Alycie as she was brought up onto the platform, her face as pale as a sheet as she looked at all of the staring faces. Her head turned and her sorrowful blue eyes met those of Garrick, who bowed his head, knowing it was hopeless.

"Si-Master, please, I beg of you, let me see who buys her," said Garrick, looking up at the paunchy face of Fexir.

"If it stops your whining and sniveling then fine, whelp," said Fexir, crossing his arms in immense irritation. Garrick was thankful for even the slightest kindness by this new Master. It was apparent that it would not come too often. His eyes turned up to his sister as the bidding reached three hundred.

"And three hundred going once, twice, SOLD! Well, my lady, it seems you are the lucky buyer of this little girl! Oh, and a servant in the palace as well. It seems the grand palace will have a fine new servant!" cried the auctioneer as Alycie was handed off to a stern-looking woman in an apron and cap, who turned and walked off swiftly, dragging a running Alycie behind her. Garrick let out a sigh of relief.

"There, you've seen it, now come along, whelp! There's cargo for you to help load! We leave for Gil'ead in the morning!"

Garrick stood until the last threat of his sister's skirt was out of sight before giving in to his Master's orders and following him to the far side of Dras-Leona.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!**


	2. The Servant and the Slave

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Years passed. Eight years to be accurate. Garrick served Fexir against his will, laboring, calculating prices, and repairing the cart whenever it broke down on the roads to the different cities across Alagaësia where the goods would be sold and profits were made. Garrick never got a share, being a lowly slave doomed to live out his life as a servant. Twice a year they returned to Dras-Leona, and twice a year was when Garrick managed to catch glimpses of his sister, Alycie.

Alycie had served as a servant in the palace ever since that fateful day when she'd been bought. Garrick managed to talk to her for at least an hour every other visit, while on the others Fexir taxed him down with much time-consuming work, hindering him from seeking out his sister.

He had grown taller and more muscular by far over the years. His wavy, light-brown hair now extended below his ears, curling every which-way at the ends. His green-blue eyes had dulled with the hardships of slavery, yet they still withheld a small speck of hope within them.

This speck grew to a definite brightness when he spotted the familiar head of light-brown hair weaving between the common civilians in the streets of Dras-Leona. He looked around quickly as a precaution. There was no telling when Fexir would be hiding nearby, watching for a reason to punish a slave. Usually said slave was Garrick, but not today.

Confident in his solitude, Garrick left the merchant's cart to another slave and sprinted along the street, weaving through the people to get to the petite, pretty girl walking along.

He reached her and spun her around, not breathing until his eyes met hers. His first grin in months crossed his face as the blue eyes sparkled in recognition and the friendly, thin arms wrapped around his neck with joy. Her soft, pink lips pressed against his filthy cheek lovingly.

"Garrick! You're back! Oh how I've missed you!" she exclaimed as she ran his fingers through her long, silky hair.

"And I, you, Alycie," he said, choking back happy tears as his lips issued her name. Alycie wasn't crying. She never did.

"You've grown again, I see. Soon I'll be talking to your stomach. How was Gil'ead? Where else did you go? Did you meet anyone? Have you met a girl? Are there any interesting stories to tell?" she asked quickly. Garrick laughed.

"I don't have much time to spare talking, Alycie," he said. "Just the moment to see your face and know you're safe."

"Could we meet later? How long are you in Dras-Leona?" asked Alycie, her arms still around him, her face against his chest.

"Fexir says a day, but that always changes once he's had ale that night. I'd say we'll be gone by tomorrow night," said Garrick. Alycie let out a sad sigh.

"I wait for months and months just for two words and a kiss and then it's back to waiting!" she said.

"The penalty of being born into slavery," said Garrick. "Still, many slaves don't ever see their families again at all. We should be thankful."

"It's little to be thankful for," said Alycie, staring at the ground solemnly. Her brow furrowed as a thought occurred to her and she looked back up at her brother. "Ask if Fexir will let you out tonight," she said. Garrick's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Tell him you want the night out. He'll be drunk as a pig anyway! I want to have a chance to actually talk with you."

Garrick was about to answer when a boy a few years younger than himself ran up, panting. He wiped his sweaty, long, dark bangs out of his eyes, panting, shot a brief up-and-down glance at Alycie, then began to speak.

"Garrick, Fexir's on his way back to the cart. You don't want to be caught away from your post. Just like _I_ don't want to be caught away from _my_ post. So if we could make this quick..." He gave Garrick an urging look. Garrick sighed, turning back to Alycie.

"I will request it," he said doubtfully. "Now I have to go."

"Bye, Brother," said Alycie sadly, standing on her toes to kiss him one last time. He nodded and turned away, walking with his fellow slave back to Fexir's cart.

"That's some sister of yours," said the slave, whistling.

"Kurik, if you try anything, I swear, I will chop off your manhood, and feed it to the pigs," he said. Kurik took a short step away from Garrick, looking down protectively with a gulp.

"Alright, Garrick. Just saying..."

"Yes, well don't say anymore," said Garrick, sending him a warning glance. Kurik didn't respond.

Alycie watched them leave, brushing a long lock of hair out of her face. She turned, walking once more. No doubt Vivaria would be angry if she was late again. The bakery was just around the corner.

"Three loaves," she said to the baker, an old man with a hooked nose and black eyes.

"You again. Why don't they send any of the other servants? They just have to send the one who can't leave without breaking something," he grumbled, taking a basket and the order and handing them to her. "You owe me quite a lot you know."

"I haven't broken anything," said Alycie defensively. "The cat broke your vase and the painting caught on fire because it was next to the oven and a spark flew out." The baker scoffed.

"Of course you would have some excuse. Stupid wench. Well, go on, get out."

Alycie walked hurriedly out of the shop. She'd not gone two paces from the door, however, when the brass sign reading _'Guin's Bakery'_ fell to the muddy ground with a loud clang. Guin's curses followed her to the corner. Soon, she was back in the palace kitchens, explaining herself to the head of the servants, Vivaria.

"And that's why I was late."

"That's why, is it? That's the reason you've kept me waiting so long? We'll be lucky if we finish baking in time. You've had us all running around in worry, you know, complete chaos!" shouted the frazzled, silver-haired woman, her hair falling out of it's tight bun on the back of her head.

"I'm here now, aren't I?" said Alycie.

"Watch your tongue," snapped Vivaria. "You'll be on cleaning duty tonight as punishment."

"It was only a few minutes!" argued Alycie.

"Punishment must be issued! I'm not head of the kitchen servants for nothing," said Vivaria haughtily. "Now put those loaves in the oven. Add more to that fire as well. You'll have to bake them extra quick."

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!**


	3. The Clever and the Curious

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"What are you doing all alone in the dark, Alycie?" asked a servant girl as she spotted her friend in the gloom of the kitchen that night.

"I have orders to wash these as punishment for tardiness," explained Alycie, stacking a clay pot on the growing pile next to the washbin. The blonde servant girl walked to her side, curls bouncing.

"You must come to the servants' quarters! There's the most wonderful wandering bard who's offered to entertain us until dusk," she said.

"I still have these to do," started Alycie, gesturing at the several small stacks of dishes piled next to the bin. Her friend bobbed up and down impatiently.

"I'll help you do those later! Please, come! He's telling riddles none of us can manage to decipher! You're the only person I know who is good at that sort of thing! You _must_ come!"

"I _must _finish these," replied Alycie pointedly, though her voice held an edge of wistfulness

"I've already told them you'd come," said the girl, her blue eyes pleading.

"Alright...I suppose I can come...but if Vivaria starts her shreiking at me, it was all your idea, Meliana," said Alycie. Her gleeful friend smiled with delight and took hold of her hand, running out into the hall with her. They wove through the corridors, entering the servants' quarters on the right and weaving through the crowd of eager maids and men.

"Here she is, Neal, ask the riddle once more," said Meliana, pulling Alycie up by her side. The bard called Neal was an old man with not white, but silver hair and dark, kind eyes. He looked at Alycie with a friendly smile.

"Hello. I am called Neal, the wandering bard. Whom might you be?" he asked in a deep voice.

"Alycie," replied the girl, returning his smile. "You have a riddle for me?"

"Yes, yes," he said, clearing his throat. "_Tool of thief, toy of queen. Always used to be unseen. Sign of joy, sign of sorrow. Giving all likeness borrowed._"

The room elapsed into a thoughtful silence, followed by hushed murmurings of the crowd amongst themselves. Alycie thought for a moment, staring at Neal levelly. She felt something throb within her head, but dismissed it for a passing headache. The fog in her consciousness lifted and she opened her mouth.

"A mask." The bard smiled, nodding.

"Clever thinker," he said. "Let's see about this one. _Whoever makes it, tells it not. Whoever takes it, knows it not. Whoever knows it, wants it not. What is it?_"

"These are impossible!" exclaimed Meliana from the left of Alycie. But her friend smiled. This one she knew.

"False currency," she said. Neal bowed his head once more in confirmation of her answer. The crowd of servants clapped in admiration. Meliana looked at Alycie.

"How in Helgrind did you figure that?" she asked.

"My brother happens to work for the shrewdest merchant in all of Alagaësia. Being tricked into accepting counterfeits is what enrages him over everything else," replied Alycie with a grin. "Have you any more, bard?"

"Let me think," replied Neal, furrowing his brow as he contemplated Alycie. He opened his mouth after a while. "_When I'm used, I'm useless, once offered, soon rejected. In desperation oft expressed, the intended not protected. What am I?_"

Alycie thought. The crowd resumed murmuring. Their eyes were narrowed, lips moving soundlessly, muttering to themselves as they concentrated on the riddle. After a long moment she laughed, stepping towards the bard and holding out her hand.

"You've got me," she said. Neal shook it.

"I'll leave you to solve it later," he said.

"I'll not sleep for weeks with this pretty poem reprimanding me for remaining unanswered," said Alycie. "Now I have one for you, bard."

"Try me," he said, crossing his arms.

"_It is a thing so fragile, that even once its name is spoken, it breaks_," said Alycie. The door to the servants' quarters was thrown open violently just as the crowd had begun to murmur loudly.

"SILENCE!" shrieked Vivaria, her eyes staring around wildly at the suddenly-silent crowd of servants, whose faces all wore the same look of sudden fear. Vivaria stormed to the front of the room, marching up to Neal in fury. "Who are you, sir!?" she demanded. Neal bowed.

"I am called, Neal, good lady, and I am a bard passing through. I was invited to entertain the servants," he explained.

"Well you're uninvited! You!" Vivaria's eyes had spotted Alycie. "Why aren't you in the kitchen washing those dishes like I ordered!?" Alycie opened her mouth to respond when Meliana broke in.

"I convinced her to leave her duty, Vivaria, it's my fault, not hers," she said hurriedly. Vivaria narrowed her eyes at the blonde.

"You will finish her task!" she ordered in an angry voice. Meliana nodded vigorously and hurried out of the room into the hallway. Vivaria turned to Alycie. "And you will show this..._bard_ out!"

"Right away, Vivaria," said Alycie, nodding. The head of the kitchen servants turned to the rest of the individuals. "And as for the rest of you, no more strangers in the palace!" She stormed out. The servants stood and thanked the bard for coming, applauding him quietly for his songs and poems. Alycie walked him to the door and they continued at a slow pace that echoed along the stone walls in the hallway. The servant girl chuckled under her breath after a pause, breaking the silence. The bard regarded her.

"What is so funny?" he asked.

"She got it right," said Alycie.

"The riddle?" asked Neal, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Yes. _It__ is a thing so fragile that even once its name is spoken it breaks_. Silence," she said. Neal laughed.

"Yes, and she broke it, too," he said. Alycie laughed.

"Here, I'll take you to the back servants' entrance. The guards won't interfere that way," she said, turning and leading him down another hallway.

They walked for a moment in silence. They passed a large portrait on the wall of a noblewoman. The bard stopped to look at it, Alycie halting by his side as well. "That was Lady Nereva. She was the first wife of the earl who lives here. She's been gone not even seven months and he's married three other women all at one time."

"Three wives?" repeated Neal, turning to her in surprise.

"Yes, three. Isn't she beautiful in that portrait, though?" asked Alycie, looking up at the fair-haired maiden composed of paint and canvas only. "The earl gave her necklace to his third wife. The painting exaggerates. It would be much more beautiful if they actually shined it. With all the Seithr oil they have imported you'd think they'd sacrifice some to use on their finery, but no, they just send it off somewhere else." The bard blinked suddenly, turning to her.

"Seithr oil?" he asked. Alycie looked at him.

"Yes, they import it to a warehouse near this palace. I've seen the order forms in the studies when I'm dusting. Great, huge imports of it too. Costs a fortune. But I never see it here. All I know is that at every full moon, two servants are ordered to take the oil and a month's provisions and head out to Helgrind. There's some very small celebration with the cathedral as well on that day. The strange thing is, once they're gone, they never come back. Once, a foolish apprentice boy who worked at butchery next to the cathedral followed the slaves that were sent out. He was never seen again either. The butcher was in hysterics after the ordeal."

"Strange," said the bard, turning back to the painting. His face had a contemplative look about it. Alycie cleared her throat.

"Yes, well we're all glad that the next full moon isn't for several weeks. Come, before Vivaria decides to check if I'm done," she said, continuing to walk along the hallway. The old man followed. They reached the door and Alycie bid the bard, Neal, goodbye and goodnight. He bowed to her, pausing for a few last words.

"It's a pity you are chained to this life of slavery," he said sadly. "Your mind is sharp and valuable. Never let anyone rob you of it, as it seems your greatest asset."

"Thank you Neal. May your wanderings be safe and full of joy," said Alycie. The bard bowed a last time before turning and walking off into the fading light.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!**


	4. The Forced and the Willing

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**I've edited this chapter so it may be a mite shorter, but it's for the good of the characters. **

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Meliana had finished scrubbing the remaining pots and pans when Alycie arrived in the kitchen a few minutes later, much to her dismay.

"I was going to help you finish," she said, walking to her friend.

"Don't worry, it was quick, and now I am done," said Meliana, gesturing at the pile of clean dishes. She wiped her hands on her apron and lifted a stack of plates off of the counter. "I'll just put them away."

"Let me put them away. You've done enough," insisted Alycie.

"No. I got you into trouble; I'll finish your task," said her friend. Alycie smiled at her.

"Thank you, Meliana. You're a good friend with a good heart," she said. "But even you can't stop me from helping a little."

"Fine! Take the water bin out if it unsettles you so much to have me do you a favor!" said the blonde, laughing incredulously and pointing at the metal tub of murky, dirty water.

Alycie took it, her arms sagging with the weight of the water, and she walked back out into the hallway, retracing her steps to the servant's entrance in the back of the palace. She managed to kick the wooden door open, stepping out to dump the water onto the ground. She looked up and screamed.

A hand quickly covered her mouth to stifle the sound and her eyes widened. The tub of water fell to the ground, spilling its contents everywhere. Alycie pryed the hand away.

"Garrick," she breathed.

"He's dead," responded her brother. His sea-green eyes were wide and scared. A purple bruise was rising around the left one.

Alycie reached up to touch the bruise, then her hand moved behind his ear. She felt his matted hair, something wet and sticky coming into contact with her flesh. She withdrew her hand quickly, staring in horror. In the light coming from the doorway, the substance glistened red.

"Garrick...you're...you've..." She was at a loss for words. Her arms moved around his waist and she held him close. "What happened?"

"He's d-dead...I...I killed him..." stuttered Garrick.

"You what?" asked Alycie, looking up into his eyes.

"He...he wouldn't let me go," said Garrick. He was shaking violently in Alycie's embrace. "I-I asked him if I could go out...in the Golden Globe pub...and...a-and he said 'o-of course not, you're a filthy slave. W-w-what kind of slave owner w-would I be if I let s-slaves roam free? Then they wouldn't b-be slaves at all.' He said it was b-best to keep my identity. So...I-I-I told him that being a slave wasn't my identity...a-and he hit me with his mug (he was drunk at the time) for contradicting. He got my eye, as you see. S-so I...I...I smashed a stool...and...broke off a l-leg...but then he slammed my head into the counter...and...I fell...so...I...took the leg while he was laughing...and...struck him down...b-but I didn't see that it broke at an angle and...a-and...he's dead, Alycie. I stabbed him through with the leg of the stool." The shaking intensified. Alycie tried to hold him steady.

"No, no, you didn't kill him," said Alycie, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"I did, Alycie! I'm not lying! And he was just l-lying there...staring up at me..."

"It wasn't your fault. It was an accident," cooed his sister.

"IT WASN'T A BLOODY ACCIDENT, ALYCIE! I KILLED HIM!" shouted Garrick. Alycie stepped back in fright. She had never heard her brother yell at her in anger. His eyes were wide. "NO MATTER HOW YOU TRY AND DENY IT, YOUR BROTHER IS A COLD-BLOODED MURDERER!" Alycie stared at him, her skin pale in the moonlight. Garrick calmed, his gaze softening. He held out a hand towards his sister, but dropped it, bowing his head in shame. "I just...don't know what to do..." he said, clenching his fists. Alycie stepped towards him, putting a hand on his arm soothingly.

"You're not a murderer, Garrick," she said quietly.

"I am. I know it, you know it, the barman knows it..." Alycie stiffened.

"How many people saw you do this?" she asked suddenly. Garrick thought.

"The barman, some drunks, and a boy around your age," he listed.

"This is serious, Garrick. You have to get out of Dras-Leona now, tonight. The barman will have turned you in. I know him, and he's one to inform Galbatorix's soldiers immediately."

"And what about you? I can't leave you here. They'll interrogate Kurik, and he's got the loosest tongue of anyone I've ever met. They'll capture you too."

"I'll get out on my own. Now we must move quickly. Go past the wall and sneak out before they have a chance to shut the gates. I will leave as soon as I can and meet you out in the plains." Garrick nodded. He pulled his sister in close in a hug, kissing her on the cheek.

"I won't be caught. I am free now," he said. His head filled with the light as this simple statement revealed something to him. "I'm free," he repeated, surprised.

"Yes, you are. But you won't be for too long if you don't get out of those gates," said Alycie. "Go."

"I will see you again!" shouted Garrick as he took off like a crazy man across the grounds, running out of the gate and into the streets of Dras-Leona, screeching once in triumph.

"He'd better get some sense or else they'll catch him," muttered Alycie to herself. She picked up the fallen tub and walked quickly back inside.

Meliana was gone when she returned the tub to the kitchen, much to her frustration. The servants' quarters was nearly silent. The few voices floating through the darkness belonged to those who had obviously slacked off during the day, as all of the others were asleep as soon as they hit their mat. Alycie slipped inside quietly, inching over to her sleeping friend. She couldn't bear to leave her behind.

"Meliana," she hissed, shaking the blonde, who groaned and sat up finally.

"What is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Get up, I have to show you something important," said Alycie.

"This better be good," grumbled Meliana, standing and crossing her arms. Alycie tossed her a dress.

"It's outside in the cold. You won't want to wear your nightgown," she said.

"I take it back. This better be spectacular," said Meliana, undressing and slipping into the dress Alycie had thrown to her.

They stepped quietly out of the servants' quarters, tiptoeing along the hallway, sticking to the shadows. They both knew what Vivaria would do to them if she caught them out of bed at night. They stepped out of the back door, Alycie closing it and taking Meliana's hand, making her way to the gate. When they reached the street, Meliana halted.

"What are you showing me?" she demanded of her friend.

"It's just a little farther, but it's outside of the wall," said Alycie, starting to walk again. Meliana pulled her hand away.

"I'm not setting one foot outside of that wall," she said shortly. "You can keep whatever your grand discovery is to yourself."

"Meliana please, it's urgent," said Alycie, her eyes widening.

"Tell me now what it is!" said Meliana angrily.

"...I can't, until we get out of that wall," said Alycie.

"Tell me or I'm not going."

"...Meliana..."

"Tell me." Alycie sighed.

"Garrick's escaped and the soldiers are searching for him," she said. Meliana cocked her head to the side in puzzlement.

"And what does that have to do with us?"

"We're going to meet him in the plains," said Alycie hesitantly. Meliana gasped.

"You were taking me out of Dras-Leona?" she exclaimed.

"No, just beyond the wall until we found Garrick. Now please, Meliana, be quiet or they'll hear us," shushed Alycie softly.

"No! Do you realize how much trouble we would be in if we escaped? Vivaria would bury us alive, or lock us up, or murder us!" 

"Not if we get out of here," said Alycie through clenched teeth.

"You're mad!" said Meliana. "I'll tell them you're escaping! I'll not go!"

"Fine, Meliana, I was trying to help you, but you won't accept it!" said Alycie heatedly.

"Oh, really?" asked Meliana. "That sounds familiar." Alycie opened her mouth.

"Meliana, this is the matter of freedom, not stupid dishes!"

"No, no, I can't," said Meliana. They stood in silence for a minute.

"You won't tell them I've gone, will you?" asked Alycie. Meliana sighed.

"I wasn't going to," she admitted. Alycie nodded.

"I suppose this is goodbye, then. For better or worse," she said.

"Hopefully better," said Meliana. They embraced, and then Alycie looked sadly at her friend.

"You're sure you won't come?" she asked.

"I've lived my entire life as a slave. I don't know how I'd cope with anything else," said Meliana, shrugging. "I don't yearn for it the way you do. I live in a palace. My dreams are done." Alycie nodded.

"As long as you're happy," she said. "Goodbye, friend."

"I pray for your success," said Meliana. With that, Alycie turned on her heel and left what had been her home for eight years.

She felt as if she were a paper doll held up by strings. She had been secured, strung up at every possible point so that she hung perfectly in the air. Now, it seemed as if a great amount of those strings had been cut, and she was merely floating by the few thin strands that remained, one mere cut away from falling.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!**


	5. The Guards and the Girl

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_**

**This chapter is shorter than usual. And, I'm having trouble keeping the characters constant to their personalities and range of abilities, so bear with me. Please.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

The news of Garrick's dark deed spread through Dras-Leona faster than Alycie had predicted. When she reached the large wall of yellow stone that surrounded the inner city, she saw that the gate had already been sealed shut, with no less than two guards standing watch.

She stood behind a building, watching them for a long time. They seemed drowsy, their heads bobbing forward to rest on their chestplates of armor every few seconds, only to be jerked back up vigilantly to resume the duty. The gates were wooden, tall and smooth with a solid wooden beam set into two hooks that held them in place. It was definately beyond Alycie's power to lift it alone.

More minutes passed as she studied every aspect of the surroundings, noting a small barrel that lay abandoned by the wall. Slowly and silently, Alycie slipped off her shoes, moving behind the men and slinking across the cobblestone street to the opposite alley where the barrel lay. Neither guard noticed her.

The girl moved the barrel next to the first hook that held the beam in place and pulled herself up onto it, clambering from the lid to the beam itself. As she was pulling her second foot onto the beam, however, it kicked out in a moment of imbalance, loudly toppling the barrel. The guards turned sharply, staring at her.

"HEY YOU!" shouted one, brandishing his spear. "You're not supposed to be up there!" Alycie quickly adopted an innocent look.

"Please, I was visiting my...dear...dear friend Mayle, a fairly wealthy man here in the central city, and I lost track of the time. You know how it is when one is...occupied. And, well, I need to get back to my home, but you see it's past this wall, here. My cat needs feeding as well. Could you two, fine, strong gentlemen help me get back home?" she asked.

"There's an escaped killer on the loose, Miss," said the other guard, lowering his spear an inch, "and we'd hate to see him escape because of lax security. But we may be...persuaded...to help." He smirked, his companion's expression matching his. Alycie nearly gave herself away at the prospect, but an idea occurred to her.

"I wouldn't sleep with you if it was a choice between you and an urgal!" she shouted down at the guard.

"What!?" he exclaimed in anger.

"If somebody said to me that you weren't fit to sleep with the pigs, I'd stick up for the pigs!" continued Alycie. She was beginning to enjoy herself.

"You shouldn't talk that way to us, Miss, unless you want to die," threatened the other guard, brandishing his spear.

"Keep talking. You might say something intelligent someday."

"Do you want to see these hands around your throat, girl?" threatened the other one in fury.

"I've seen better hands on a leper!"

"You dirty little bitch!" shouted the guard. "I'll beat you so bad your own mother won't recognize you!"

"I've seen rotting corpses less offensive than you!" retorted Alycie. The guard, in a fit of fury, threw his spear at her with his full force.

This was what Alycie had been waiting for. She leapt back at the last second, watching as the head of the spear buried itself deep into the wood not even a foot in front of her. She quickly climbed onto it, standing precariously and pulling herself quickly up onto the top of the gate.

Flushed with her triumph, she swung her legs over to the other side, shot one smug look over her shoulder, saluting the soldiers mockingly. Then, she swung herself down so she hung parallel to the other side of the gate in time to avoid a second spear. Alycie cursed under her breath as she looked down, finding no footholds in the smooth wood of the gate. She looked back over her shoulder at the ground. It was far, but what choice did she have. Taking a deep breath, Alycie summoned a last prayer, and dropped.

She landed on the side of her leg, scraping her hands as she braced her upper body from flying into the cobblestones. Pain enveloped her side and wrists and she sat up, moaning. Nothing seemed to be broken, but her left knee and ankle burned with pain as she tested her weight.

Gritting her teeth, Alycie stood on her right leg and quicky limped off down a side alley. The two guards on the inside wouldn't dare leave their posts to follow her or fetch reinforcements merely for vengeance. She'd done nothing against the law, and therefore would receive no punishment. Still, it was a wise decision to stay off of the main road.

A sleeping beggar caught Alycie's eye and she hobbled over to him. A smooth, thick wooden stick lay by his side, stolen from an abandoned butter churn no doubt. This Alycie took, leaning on it as a makeshift crutch. Remembering a small habit all men on the outskirts had, Alycie reached into the sleeping man's boot and felt around. A moment later she withdrew her hand, clutching a small, sharp dagger, which she slipped into the pocket of her skirts. She leaned heavily on the stick, and continuing along the alley until she reached another wide road, which she followed.

Minutes passed, then hours. One agonizing step after another. Steadily, the buildings surrounding the street turned from mansions to common peasantry abodes, a shady black market, and, finally, shack. The street along the outskirts was not made up of cobblestones, but mud that sucked at Alycie's shoes, eventually wrenching them from her feet all together. She didn't stop. It was a small obstacle she could endure.

The last house came within sight. A poor, abandoned, rotting thing it was, yet Alycie had never been happier to see anything else in her entire life. She looked at it as she hobbled along, laughing with relief.

Her steps quickened until she passed it, closing her eyes with a sigh at the way her heart fluttered at the accomplishment. Her eyes opened after a few deep breaths of the fresh plains air. The road turned dryer a few meters down, stretching off into the distant plains of Alagaësia where the sun's golden body peaked out from the horizon. Fatigue ached Alycie's every nerve, but she pressed on, her mind still completely devoted to the task of leaving Dras-Leona far behind. Step by step, she began to make her long, painful journey out into the world.

Alycie had never seen a map of Alagaësia. Neither had she ever dared venture out of the city before. But really, Dras-Leona was huge. Compared to that, how big could the world be?

The sun continued to make its passage through the sky, creeping up quickly at first, then at an agonizingly slow pace. After what seemed like hours, Alycie glanced back over her shoulder to find that both Leona Lake and the city were too far to be seen. Then a question popped into her tiring mind.

Where was she to find Garrick?

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!**


	6. The Hiding and the Seeking

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Not much dialogue in this, but I combined two potential short chapters into one long one. I know the plot isn't apparent yet. That's partially because I haven't completed it yet. This is just about as far as I've gotten. So, again, bear with me.**

**Also, as of 12/8/06 I've updated the last chapter as well as this one, thought the last one more so.  
**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Eragon knelt before the altar in the large, beautiful cathedral, bowing his head in respect to the morbid building. Who knew how many horrid, traumatic sacrifices and acts of cruelty the stone statues and stained glass windows had witnessed? He breathed, feeling his jaw shake involuntarily as the cold air chilled him. There was a sudden clatter and his brown eyes flicked up in alarm.

An arm was sticking out of a small cabinet on the marble floor past the altar, reaching up onto the surface of the fine, wooden piece of furniture, holding a small statuette of a bearded man's head steady. It had upset it as it searched by feel along the smooth wooden surface and had had to quickly correct it, but that had not stopped the noise. Eragon looked around, and then rose, walking slowly and cautiously towards the wooden box. It couldn't be one of the worshippers. Why would they be hiding? Eragon reached down for the small knob on the wooden door and swung it open.

The owner of the arm cried out in surprise, jumping and hitting his head on the top of the enclosed space. He stared at Eragon for two seconds, then let out his breath in an oath, his hand moving to the top of his head where it had hit the wood. He stuck his feet out of the cabinet, scrambling out onto the white stone floor. His eyes rose to meet Eragon's.

"What're you doing?" he asked, another chain of low curses following.

"What are _you_ doing?" asked Eragon, raising his eyebrows and nodding at the cabinet. The man got to his feet, brushing himself off. A strange sense of déjá vu swept over him as Eragon watched him run a hand through his wavy, light-brown hair. He stared at Eragon with cold, green-blue eyes for a moment and Eragon noticed a large purple bruise around one.

"Hiding," he said finally. Eragon felt his heart skip a beat as he realized where he'd seen him before.

"You...you killed the man in the pub," he said, taking a step backwards. He had no doubt that he could defeat this man in a fight, with magic on his side, but who knew how cunning this killer was? What if he had magic of his own, as Brom did?

"Yes, I did," said the man in a defiant tone. "And the damned barman turned me in, I know it! His beer is good, but he's spineless as jelly, I swear." He shook his head.

"How do you know I didn't turn you in?" asked Eragon, raising an eyebrow. The man laughed.

"As if you would. You were white as a sheet. Probably scared I'd murder the witnesses too," he said.

"I was not!" argued Eragon, his temper rising. The man looked at him sarcastically.

"Please, you're as old as my sister. But I shouldn't be talking. That was the first man I ever killed, I promise you," he said. "And let me tell you, it does not feel good. The entire city's on the watch for me. And the memory haunts..." He stopped, turning suddenly. Eragon turned as well, looking towards the entrance to the cathedral.

His heart turned cold as ice.

There, by the large, carved, marble doorway, stood the Ra'zac. Their swords were drawn and a low hiss emanated from one. Eragon turned back to the man only to find that he was running out of the cathedral as fast as he could through an archway to the left. Eragon quickly followed him, running as fast as his legs would allow.

A wooden door blocked them a ways in. The man struggled with the knob, and then leaned on the frame hopelessly, moaning. Eragon looked back, seeing the oncoming Ra'zac. He spun back to the door and yelled in the ancient language.

"Jierda!"

The door exploded, leaving their way clear. The man sprinted through without a word. Eragon followed suit. They emerged into a small, enclosed courtyard surrounded by a large brick wall. No way out.

"Got anymore useful tricks?" the man asked.

"Yeah, it's called jumping," answered Eragon, speeding towards the wall. His feet propelled him skyward at the last moment and his hands rose, giving him more momentum. They cleared the wall, grabbing hold as the rest of him struck the bricks. He heard the man's small cry as he hit the wall as well. Eragon's arms burned as he pulled himself to the top of the wall, rolling over it and dropping to the opposite ground. The man did the same and once again they were off running.

Eragon chanced a backwards glance in time to see the Ra'zac clear the wall in a flying leap. His legs increased speed with a spurring burst of fear and he turned off into an alleyway, winding through the streets. The man did not follow him.

Garrick kept his speed until he reached a rather popular pub. Those creatures wouldn't dare venture where a crowd was present. They would attract too much attention. He shot inside the dim-lit bar, melting into the crowd at once. He waited with baited breath.

Minutes passed and, positive of his safety, he sidled up to the counter, ordering ale to calm his nerves. The crowns dotting the counter were not his, but Fexir's. Tiny reminders of his dark deed. Garrick tried to ignore his conscience, chugging the ale with his eyes closed. Something stirred in the back of his mind, rising to the surface in a shot.

_Alycie_

If she'd gotten out, an unlikely prospect, she would be out in the plains looking for him. Alone. Most likely without provisions. But he wasn't there.

When he'd attempted to climb the wall the night before, he'd fallen onto a barrel and caused several civilians to awake with loud curses and oaths.

In desperation, he had taken refuge in the cathedral before the worshippers came at midnight. But this had proved less of a sanctuary than a slaughterhouse. Garrick had been forced to endure the worshippers' performances, including sacrifices of all kinds of animals, from lambs to humans, from which they then moved on to ghastly chants to the mountain of Helgrind. It was a miracle his gagging hadn't given his hiding place away.

But Alycie was out in the wilderness because of _him_, waiting for _him_. No matter how self-assured she seemed, no matter how clever she was, and no matter how much she was able to endure, she wouldn't last long on her own. He had to get out.

Garrick thought hard. If he could get a cloak and slip into the marketplace...that is unless those bird creatures were still chasing him...he might be able to wedge himself under the goods of a cart bound for Gil'ead...or anywhere outside Dras-Leona. He refined his plan in his head, aided by two more ales. Then he stood, turning to leave the pub.

He didn't get far.

Behind him stood two soldiers dressed in red and black uniforms. Their arms were crossed and they were staring at him with steely glints in their eyes. Garrick cursed.

Before he knew what had happened, a pain exploded in the back of his head, triggering stars to erupt, clouding his vision as he fell to the floor.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X**-

The long, hot day under the sun had long since turned to a dark, icy-cold night when Alycie finally stopped walking, falling to her knees in exhaustion. Her bare feet were bloody from the rocks littering the road and her leg was paining her worse than ever.

Near noon she had passed a long line of merchant carts trailing along, no doubt at the end of a long journey to Dras-Leona. Atop a brown steed leading a snowy-white one, Alycie could have sworn she spotted Neal the bard galloping hard down the road. But she dismissed it for a trick of the heat.

Indeed the road had become more and more challenging the farther she walked. By nightfall the ground was extremely dry and littered with sharp rocks that cut her already sore feet. Thorny bushes and cactus dotted the landscape for miles around.

Remembering a tale from a grumpy merchant she'd once come upon in the market, Alycie stabbed her tiny, stolen dagger into a cactus, pressing her lips to it carefully, avoiding the spines. A small trickle of water entered her dry mouth. It had been sparse, but enough for survival.

Garrick had not been seen yet, but all Alycie could do was keep looking, pushing herself to the limit to put as many miles between her and Dras-Leona as possible, limping along through the hours.

Now the hunger and madness were seeping in. Perhaps it was the loss of blood from the scratches and cuts on her feet, or an infection, or the mind-numbing pain in her leg, or the hunger, or the heat of the desert like plains, but blurry visions had begun to appear before Alycie a while before sunset.

A few times it had been water, once Garrick, and once even Meliana. But whenever she got close enough to see clearly, the vision would disperse into a million tiny heat waves.

Now her mouth watered uncontrollably and her forehead felt as if it were ignited, contrasting with the rest of her body, which shivered violently from the cold of the darkness. How she longed to sleep.

But no. She wouldn't stop now. Not when she'd come so far.

Alycie rose to her feet awkwardly, wincing and grabbing the stick for support, putting her weight on it once more. It snapped immediately, setting her off balance. Regaining her stance, she threw the useless piece of wood aside, limping slower than ever.

The wind increased as the night drew on, chilling her to the bone. It did nothing for her flaming head, however. Several times she stumbled, scraping her knees on the pointed stones. As she looked up from one such incident hopelessly, her eyes spotted a flicker in the distance.

_Fire_

Getting wobbly to her feet with a new sense of determination, Alycie quickened her uneven paces towards the light.

_One, two, three, four_. Just keep focusing on the steps. _One, two...one...three..._

The fire was nearer now. Alycie could make out two dark figures setting up a camp. One walked to the edge of the camp, looking off into the darkness. Alycie opened her mouth to call out.

A shadow swooped upon him suddenly and he fell to the ground.

A deafening roar pierced the night.

Alycie screamed in frustration and fright.

The shadows flew her way just as a wave of pain and fatigue overwhelmed her.

She dropped to the ground, her upper body tipping to the side, landing with a thump on the dusty ground.

Her eyes closed in long-missed and irresistible sleep

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!**


	7. The Savior and the Stranger

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Okay most of this chapter is from the books, I swear the next one will be more original.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"You will serve our master very well, yesss," hissed the Ra'zac.

"If I do, I will kill you," said Eragon forcibly, not taking his eyes off of the two creatures. Dual cold chuckles served as a response.

"Oh no, we are too valuable. But you...you are disposable," said a Ra'zac. A ways away, Saphira growled at them, helpless to fight due to the restraining chains, shackles, and muzzle fitted over her massive, blue body. Smoke rose from her nostrils like incense. The Ra'zac ignored her. On the ground, the form of Brom moved and his groan could be heard. A Ra'zac picked him up, tossing him into the air.

"It'sss wearing off."

"Give him more."

"Let'sss just kill him. "He has caused us much grief."

"A good plan. But remember, the king's instructions were to keep them alive," responded the taller Ra'zac.

"We can sssay he was killed when we captured them," said the other.

"And what of thisss one?" The Ra'zac gestured at Eragon with his sword. "If he talksss?"

"He would not dare," chuckled the other one, drawing a dagger.

"And the sssick one?"

"She isss delirious. She will not lassst long." Eragon could make neither heads nor tails of this. He watched as the Ra'zac considered his companion.

"Agreed." They grabbed Brom, dragging him into the middle of the campsite and dropping him to his knees. The old man sagged to one side. Eragon struggled against his constraints.

"None of that now," hissed the tall Ra'zac, nudging the young Rider with his sword. His head lifted suddenly and Eragon heard him sniff. He was alert, wary. The other Ra'zac held Brom's head back by his hair, holding the dagger to his bare throat.

An arrow whizzed through the air, imbedding itself in the Ra'zac's shoulder. The taller one ducked, avoiding a second arrow. He joined his companion and they looked off furiously into the darkness from which the arrows had flown. Brom sat up, looking around, disoriented.

"Get down!" shouted Eragon. As Brom scrambled over to him, his eyes glimpsed something pale in the darkness. It was a hand, raised in the air, twisting casually. It dropped in time to avoid a particularly low-flying arrow, not reappearing. A small boulder hid it's owner from view.

Eragon's thoughts were interrupted as the Ra'zac fled by, one kicking him hard in the side as he passed. The other grabbed the dagger from the ground as he retreated, throwing it back at Eragon. Brom threw himself in front of Eragon just in time.

He fell to the ground, blood staining his shoulder where the dagger's hilt stuck out of his flesh.

"NO!" cried Eragon, doubled over in pain. He closed his eyes, hearing footsteps, and then his world went black.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Eragon didn't really wake. He eased into consciousness, first aware of his breathing, then of his pain. He had no sense of the time passing him by until his consciousness was fully recovered. He opened his eyes, staring around. A fire sat a few feet away, crackling merrily in the darkness. The drug from the Ra'zac no longer fogged his mind and he reached out for the blue dragon.

_'Saphira, are you injured?'_

_'No, but you and Brom are.'_

Eragon became aware of the wings that covered him. Saphira seemed to be right beside him, watching over him protectively.

_'Saphira, you didn't make that fire, did you? And you couldn't have gotten out of those chains by yourself.'_

_'No.'_

_'I didn't think so.'_

Eragon sat up painfully, spotting a young man sitting across the fire. He seemed a few years older than Eragon, not young, but not a man, with dark hair that extended to his chin. His eyes were gray, and they were fixed on Eragon.

"Who are you?" asked Eragon.

"Murtagh," replied the stranger simply, flexing the fingers that clutched his bow. Eragon noticed his hands were still bound and he moved them up over his feet so they were in front of him.

"Why did you help us?"

"You aren't the only enemies the Ra'zac have. I was tracking them."

"You know who they are?"

"Yes." Eragon looked at the ropes around his wrists, focusing his magic on them.

"Jierda!" he said and the ropes snapped apart. He heard Murtagh breathe sharply. Ignoring this, he struggled to stand, but faltered with the pain. Murtagh moved to help, but Saphira growled, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"I would have helped you earlier, but your dragon wouldn't let me near you, nor the sick girl," he said.

"Her name's Saphira," said Eragon, but his eyes narrowed in confusion. "What sick girl?"

"Was she not traveling with you?" asked Murtagh, furrowing his brow.

"No, it was only me, Saphira, Brom, and the horses," said Eragon. "What sick girl? I remember the Ra'zac mentioning her as well." Murtagh looked apprehensively up at Saphira.

"I'll show you if she will let me help," he said.

_'Let him by! I can't do this alone, Saphira. Besides, he saved our lives.'_ Saphira grudgingly lifted her wing at Eragon's mental words, allowing Murtagh to help him to his feet and aided him in walking to the fire where Brom lay unconscious next to a young girl of small stature. She was unfamiliar to Eragon, yet she stirred something in his memory. Her long, light brown hair was draped over her shoulder and her lips were moving rapidly, though her eyes were closed. Murtagh helped him into a sitting position.

"How is he?" asked Eragon, looking at Brom.

"Bad," replied Murtagh. "The knife went right between his ribs. You can look at him in a minute, but first we'd better see how much damage the Ra'zac did to you." He helped Eragon remove his shirt, whistling when he saw the wound. "Ouch!"

"Ouch," said Eragon, looking down at the bruise that covered his side, bleeding in a few places. Murtagh pressed it, causing Eragon to yell out in pain and Saphira to growl in warning. Murtagh grabbed a blanket, tearing it into strips to bind Eragon's chest.

"I think you have some broken ribs. It's hard to tell, but at least two, maybe more. You're lucky you're not coughing up blood."

"Yes...I'm lucky..." said Eragon distantly, slipping his shirt back on over the makeshift bandages. He moved to Brom, moving the bandage that covered the wound.

"I wouldn't do that. He'll bleed to death without it," warned Murtagh as he examined the girl. Eragon looked anyway.

_'Help me, Saphira, I am too weak to do this alone.'_

_'I am here, Eragon.'_ sent Saphira, joining him and looking at Brom.

"Waíse heill!" said Eragon. His palm glowed over the wound and the cuts slowly closed, leaving it good as new. _'We've never done that before'_ he sent to Saphira.

_'Together we can cast spells that are beyond either of us'_ she responded. Murtagh looked over.

"Is he completely healed?" he asked.

"I can only mend what is on the surface. I don't know enough to fix whatever's damaged inside. It's up to him now. I've done all I can," he said, looking from Murtagh to the unconscious girl. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's feverish and her feet are injured pretty badly. I think she may have been traveling with no shoes," said Murtagh, moving so that Eragon could see her feet. They were grimy, covered with dirt, blood, and sweat. One ankle was swollen twice it's size and a multicolored bruise extended up the length of her left leg. Her knees were scraped minor above the mess. Murtagh looked at him. "Can you heal her?" he asked.

"Only the injuries. The fever will have to be treated by other means, though," he said. _'Saphira, I need your help again.'_

_'Who is she?'_ asked Saphira.

_'I don't know. She reminds me of someone though...help me.'_ Both dragon and Rider combined their strength once more, watching as the many slits and cuts sealed themselves flawlessly, leaving un-bruised, yet still bloody feet. Eragon looked at Murtagh. "Is she hurt anywhere else?" he asked.

"Saphira wouldn't let me examine her closer earlier," replied the dark-haired boy. "But we'll have to wait until she wakes. How far do you think she walked this way?"

"I don't know," said Eragon, looking at the pretty girl's pale face. Small beads of sweat were appearing and she made a low whimpering noise as she continued to move her lips slightly. Eragon was suddenly possessed of a feeling unfamiliar to him. "My...my head seems to be floating in clouds..."

"You probably need to eat. I'll make soup," said Murtagh.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!**


	8. The Sick and the Dying

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Eragon_.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"How long has it been since the Ra'zac fled?" asked Eragon after a while as he shoveled the soup down hungrily. Murtagh sat down, thinking.

"A few hours."

"We have to go before they return with reinforcements."

"You might be able to travel," said Murtagh. He pointed at Brom. "But he can't. You don't get up and ride away after being stabbed between the ribs. And there's the matter of what to do with that girl nobody seems to know." Eragon conversed silently with Saphira for a moment.

"Saphira can carry him, but we need a litter. Can you make one? I don't have the strength," he said to Murtagh.

"Wait here," replied the young wanderer, leaving camp momentarily. He returned with two young saplings to find Eragon packed and ready to leave, sitting upon his steed. Murtagh lashed Eragon's blanket between the two small trees, carrying Brom to it and tying him down carefully. Saphira took hold of the saplings and took off awkwardly, working to stay in the air.

"I never thought I would see a sight like that," murmured Murtagh.

"Thanks for helping us. You should leave now. Ride as far away from us as you can. You'll be in danger if the Empire finds you with us. We can't protect you, and I wouldn't see harm come to you on our account."

"A pretty speech, but where will you go? Is there a place nearby that you can rest in safety?"

"No," said Eragon truthfully.

"In that case, I think I'll accompany you until you're out of danger," said Murtagh. "I've no better place to be. Besides, if I stay with you, I might get another shot at the Ra'zac sooner than if I were on my own. Interesting things are bound to happen around a Rider." Eragon hesitated to answer.

"Join us if you wish," he said finally with a shrug.

"What of the girl? She won't survive long on her own," said Murtagh. Eragon looked at her.

"Well we can't take her with us," he said. "It would be dragging her into this flight from the Empire. She doesn't even have a choice in the matter."

"It's that or she dies," said Murtagh. "And I'm interested in what she's doing out here alone. She could be on the run from the Empire already without our help. Besides, if you are unable to enter large cities for fear of being recognized, it is a good idea to have one whom nobody knows." Eragon thought, looking at the unconscious girl.

"Alright," he said, "get her on the horse."

Murtagh walked to the extinguished fire, bending and lifting the small form of the girl up. She was light, as if made of silk. He set her on his gray war-horse and mounted behind her, holding the reins.

They rode away from the campsite into the dark wilderness, blinking back the tiredness that threatened to creep up on them. The moon provided fair light, but that was both a bane and a blessing for those who are being tracked.

They rode the few short hours until dawn, the silence being interrupted only two times by a small cry from the girl. Near sunrise, Saphira spoke to Eragon.

_'I must stop. My wings are tired and Brom needs attention. I discovered a good place to stay, about two miles ahead of where you are.'_ They rode until they found her sitting by a large sandstone hill dotted with small caves of varying sizes. Saphira looked happy with her find._ 'I found a cave that can't be seen from the ground. It's large enough for all of us, including the horses. Follow me.'_

She climbed up the sandstone, Eragon and Murtagh following on the horses. It soon became apparent that horses were not built for rocks. Their hooves slid on the sandstone and Murtagh and Eragon had to push them up the majority of the hill. This was made even more difficult considering they had an unconscious rider on one of them who would nearly fall so often that in the end they had to tie her to the horse with Murtagh's remaining rope.

Eventually after about an hour they reached the cave. It was a very large cavern with small pockets in the walls that could prove useful if the situation would call for a hiding place or protection. In the low light, shadows lay everywhere, clouding the cave's corners from view.

Eragon attended to Brom while Murtagh unstrapped the girl from his horse, setting her in one of the pockets in the wall. He whistled as he looked around, then his eyes turned to Eragon.

"Impressive. I'll gather wood for a fire."

Eragon remained over Brom, watching him vigilantly until his stomach grumbled so loudly he gave in to his hunger and joined Murtagh by the fire. They ate in silence, then attempted to make Brom drink something, but to no avail. They did the same for the girl, but with the opposite effect. She gulped it down eagerly momentarily, then returned to her state once finished. With nothing else needed, both Eragon and Murtagh retired to their bedrolls, falling asleep.

The sun had fully risen when Murtagh was awoken by Eragon's cry as he stood over Brom's convulsing form. They held him down until he stopped moving, then he cried out hoarsely for wine.

"I can't find it!" shouted Eragon as he searched.

"Take mine," said Murtagh, handing a wineskin to him. Eragon took it, running back to Brom. Murtagh moved away, deciding it was best to grant them privacy.

As he walked to the back of the cave he heard heavy breathing. The girl was awake, and in pain. He walked over, holding her down as she nearly rolled off of the small ledge she was laid out on. Her teeth chattered despite the moderate temperatures and she looked at him with wide blue eyes.

"S-s-s-s-s-s-so c-c-c-cold..." she stuttered in a voice similar to small silver bells. Murtagh removed his cloak, draping it over her.

"Shh, you're sick," he said calmly, looking at her.

"I'm in captivity, aren't I?" she asked, turning over and looking at the sandstone ceiling. "I knew it. Those guards weren't so stupid..."

"We aren't soldiers. You're delirious," Murtagh informed her.

"I'nt deliriat," mumbled the girl. She sighed, turning back to look at him. "Nah'm dead for sure...you an angel?" Murtagh laughed loudly.

"If you think I'm an angel then you _must_ be delirious," he said to her.

"Tell Vivaria not'oo send me to Guin's anymore...he hates me," she mumbled. Murtagh felt her forehead. It was still hot.

"I'm going to get you some water, and then I want you to sleep. You have to travel later," he said, standing.

"There'rent any beams on this side'the gate..." muttered the girl. Murtagh smiled, retrieving the wineskin from next to Eragon silently. He poured some into the girl's mouth and then tossed the empty container aside, looking at her. She was rather pretty in the light.

"How do you feel now?" he asked, stroking her hair back from her face. The girl looked off into space, as if in thought.

"Huh...a horrible excuse..." she said after a moment, chuckling.

"What?" asked Murtagh.

"_When I'm used, I'm useless, once offered, soon rejected. In desperation oft expressed, the intended not protected. What am I?_ A stupid excuse...I win, bard..."

"You're rambling," said Murtagh to the girl.

"Nuh uh," replied the girl, squinting at him. "You're rambling..."

"How so?" inquired Murtagh.

"Something about...dishes..." mumbled the girl, her eyes drifting closed.

"What is your name?"

"Mmm...can'member…is'good'un though..." said the girl, drifting off to sleep. Murtagh snorted, watching her. Then he turned and walked back over to Eragon, who was weeping over the now-dead old man, Brom.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	9. The Hallucinations and the Hellsword

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

The tomb was made from sandstone at the top of the hill, and Eragon had set a short inscription into the top out of respect. He and Saphira remained at the top, two mourners for one who deserved thousands. Murtagh had joined them briefly, but had left, feeling he did not merit as much of a mourner for one he'd known only in unconsciousness.

Instead he retreated into the cave, packing the provisions and belongings once more and tending to the girl. Her fever had receded slightly, but she was still unfit for travel. She would have to, however, if she did not want to be left behind while they fled the Ra'zac. Murtagh passed the time talking with her in her state of delirium. Her disoriented answers to his questions amused him somewhat. After a while, she began to walk aimlessly around the cave, fidgeting and muttering. He followed her to make sure she didn't hurt herself. Once she even pointed at a far wall, acting as if, Murtagh deducted, the mayor of Dras-Leona stood there. She even began to converse with a rock wall for a while, questioning it about what it would like for dinner. That was when Murtagh decided it was time to sit her down and keep her still.

"You need to stay here now," he said seriously as she giggled at him. "I am going to go out there," he pointed out of the mouth of the cave, "and get some food. I need you to stay here. Can you do that?"

"Can Meliana stay too? I don' like t'bee left alone," said the girl, pointing at a nearby wall. Murtagh nodded.

"Meliana can stay too. You both just stay here and talk. I'll be back in an hour. If you need anything, just ask Eragon. He's up the hill right out there," he said. The girl nodded, then began talking animatedly, yet disjointedly, to the wall. Murtagh watched her out of the corner of his eye as he strode to his gray horse and took his bow, walking out of the mouth of the cave into the woods.

Alycie brushed her hair out of her face as she continued to talk to Meliana, who sat smiling at her. She explained about how she had escaped the guards and hobbled all the way out of Dras-Leona into the plains. Her friend smiled still. It was as though she didn't even hear Alycie's words, though she heard them plainly herself.

"And then, I wandered for days and days on my own. That was when I saw that fire and the shadows got me," she said. "Then, I wake up and there was a man putting me on a horse. Then I thought I was back in the palace for a moment...and Garrick was there, but then I remembered that I had gotten out of the palace. Then, I woke up...I think it was yesterday, and that man was there, and so was Neal, the bard, and I found out the answer to his riddle, it was a bad alibi. And then, I saw a boy with brown hair sitting over him. Then the man from before, the one who just left, he talked to me for a time. And I thought I was dead, but I can't be. You're not dead, after all. And now the mayor was just here and he said I'm free and that you're free, isn't that wonderful?"

Meliana didn't answer. She just sat there, smiling that smile. Alycie frowned at her, placing her hand on her friend's forehead. It didn't seem warm. She shook her. The smile remained.

"Why don't you answer?" asked Alycie. "Meliana, why aren't you speaking? Talk!" She slapped her friend. The cheek turned rosy, but still her friend smiled, her eyes sparkling. Alycie rose to her feet, striking her friend again and again until her knuckles bled. Still the smile wore on. She pushed her friend to the floor, but gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Meliana had become Garrick, beaten and bruised, looking up at her with an expression of sheer misery.

"Why did you leave me, sister?" he asked, crawling towards her pitifully. "Why did you not stop? Why did you leave me in Dras-Leona? The soldiers found me, sister. Alycie."

"Garrick..." said Alycie, her eyes wide.

"Why did you not STAY!?" He was furious now, on his feet, his eyes flaming red as he roared at her. She backed up against the far wall, watching him advance with horror in her eyes. Pointed stakes appeared in his bloodstained hands and a fiery imprint was left where his feet hit the floor. She cowered by the wall, shaking with fear.

"Garrick..."

His teeth became long and pointed, scaly wings sprouting from his back. He became a black dragon, roaring and spitting fire terribly. Alycie grabbed a sharp rock lying on the floor, brandishing it threateningly. The dragon reared, preparing to strike. It turned, roaring, and flew away. Alycie looked to see the man from before running towards her, dropping his catch to the floor and knealing beside her.

Murtagh placed his hand on the trembling girl's shoulder, looking into her wide, scared eyes with concern. She seemed to be terrified, her entire body racking with shivers. She kept her eyes on him, breathing hard.

"Are you alright?" he asked. The girl latched onto him, burying her face in his shoulder. He put his arms around her awkwardly, stroking her hair calmingly.

"I'm sorry...I sorry...I sorry..." she was repeating in a quivering voice.

"Shhh, don't be sorry...you haven't done anything..." said Murtagh slowly. He sat with her for a few minutes until she calmed down, then set her on the floor while he plucked the two pheasants he'd shot down, cooking them and handing her a bite. She ate it slowly, staring into the fire all the while. Finally she fell asleep, and he returned her to her rock ledge on the side of the cave.

He slept as well, waking at early dawn to hunt. When he returned to the cave, Eragon had come back and was sitting on the cold sandstone floor, a scratched _'Why me?'_ in the dust next to him. Murtagh sat by him, dropping the rabbits he'd caught.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Very ill," replied Eragon. Murtagh surveyed him.

"Will you recover?" Eragon shrugged. There was a pause. "I dislike asking this at such a time, but I must know...is your Brom the Brom? The one who helped steal a dragon egg from the king, chased it across the Empire, and killed Morzan in a duel? I heard you say his name, and I read the inscription you put on his grave, but I must know for certain, was that he?"

"It was." Eragon's brow furrowed and he looked at Murtagh curiously. "How do you know all that? You talk about things that are kept secret to most, and you were trailing the Ra'zac right when we needed help. Are you one of the Varden?"

"I'm running away, like you," said Murtagh lowly. "I do not belong to either the Varden or the Empire. Nor do I owe allegiance to any man but myself. As for my rescuing you, I will admit that I've heard whispered tales of a new Rider and reasoned that by following the Ra'zac I might discover if they were true."

"I thought you wanted to kill the Ra'zac."

"I do, but if I had, I never would have met you," replied Murtagh. Eragon thought, and then reached out for Murtagh's mind to try and see his true intentions. His probing consciousness hit the heavily guarded one of Murtagh. He could not get through. Surprised, he called off the probe.

"Where is Saphira?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Murtagh. She followed me for a time when I went hunting, then flew off on her own. I haven't seen her since before noon." Eragon rose to his feet, heading for the mouth of the cave. Murtagh followed him. "What are you going to do now?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," replied Eragon. He stopped at Cadoc, pulling out a sword and strapping it on, placing his bow on Cadoc in it's place, then proceeded to go through Brom's belongings.

Murtagh retreated to the burnt out fire, relighting it and beginning to skin the rabbits. He would occasionally send glances over at the sleeping girl, checking that she wasn't in the same state as the day before. What had caused her to become so upset, he didn't know. Eragon joined him by the fire and he looked up, spotting the sword that hung at his side.

"That sword, May I see it?" he asked, cleaning his hands on his pants quickly. Eragon paused, and then nodded, handing Zar'roc to his companion. Murtagh examined it, a shadow crossing his face. "Where did you get this?"

"Brom gave it to me. Why?" asked Eragon. Murtagh shoved the sword back at him, breathing hard.

"That sword was once as well known as its owner. The last Rider to carry it was Morzan, a brutal and savage man. I though you were a foe of the Empire, yet here I find you bearing one of the Forsworn's bloody swords!" he exclaimed. Eragon looked shocked.

"Brom never told me where it was from! I had no idea it was Morzan's," he said.

"He never told you?" asked Murtagh incredulously. Eragon shook his head. "That's strange. I can think of no reason for him to have concealed it."

"Neither can I. But then, he kept many secrets. Even so, I'm going to carry it. I don't have a sword of my own. Until such time as I get one, I'll use Zar'roc."

"It's your choice," said Murtagh, resuming his skinning of the rabbits.

The meal was cooked quickly and Eragon took the bit that was handed to him, eating slowly. He watched as Murtagh walked over to the strange sleeping girl, shaking her gently awake and handing her some. He saw her begin to argue, but Murtagh must have convinced her somehow because she wolfed it down a moment later. He said something else to her, and then returned to Eragon, eating his rabbit. After the meal, Eragon stood up.

"I have to sell my horse," he said. Murtagh looked confused.

"Why?" he asked.

"Well, Brom's...not here...and he promised to take care of Snowfire, so I suppose I'll have to do it for him."

"No, I mean we are three travelers with three horses," said Murtagh.

"You can't be serious," said Eragon. "We're not taking her with us."

"We can't leave her on her own. I left her for not even an hour yesterday and when I returned she was cowering against the wall, horrified," said Murtagh.

"At what?" asked Eragon.

"That's just it, I don't know," said Murtagh. "She was just apologizing over and over."

"Well...when do we leave?" asked Eragon.

"As soon as we can," said Murtagh. "But she should be fit to travel now. She can walk, anyway. We'll ride with her on one of our horses for a while, and then we'll transfer her to Cadoc when she's in her right mind."

"We?" asked Eragon.

"Your ribs are going to take time to heal. I know you can defend yourself with magic, but you need a companion who can lift things and use a sword. I'm asking to travel with you, at least for the time being. But I must warn you, the Empire is searching for me. There'll be blood over it eventually."

"That's why I don't want _her_ going," said Eragon. "But I don't care if it's just you an entire army is searching for. But you're right, I do need help. I would be glad to have you along, though I have to talk to Saphira about it. And I should warn _you_; Galbatorix just _might_ send the entire army after me. You won't be any safer with Saphira and me than if you were on your own. And neither will the girl."

"I know that," said Murtagh, grinning. "But all the same, it won't stop me."

"Good," said Eragon. "But you realize that if the Empire gets her while she's with us it's because you made her decision?"

"I do," said Murtagh. "But she'd be in more danger if we left her here on her own."

"True. Get her on the horse," said Eragon. He walked out to talk with Saphira and Murtagh retreated to the corner of the cave, helping the girl to her feet.

"Was'ing on?" she asked.

"We have to leave the cave now," said Murtagh gently, leading her to Tornac.

"M'I going on th'orse?" asked the girl.

"Yes, you are going on the horse," said Murtagh, lifting her up into the saddle. He climbed up behind her, leading Cadoc and Snowfire along behind him. The girl blinked in the light when they reached the outside of the cave.

"S'bright," she said.

"Mmhmm," said Murtagh, calling Eragon over and asking about his conversation. Eragon told him what they had decided. "If you find this Dormnad and then continue on to the Varden, I will leave you," said Murtagh. "Encountering the Varden would be as dangerous for me as walking unarmed into Urû'baen with a fanfare of trumpets to announce my arrival."

"We won't have to part anytime soon. It's a long way to Gil'ead," said Eragon. "We should leave before the day grows any older."

"Are you strong enough to travel?"

"I have to do something or I'll go crazy. Sparring, practicing magic, or sitting around twiddling my thumbs aren't good options right now, so I choose to ride." He looked around, then back at Murtagh. "Go on, I'll be right down."

Murtagh nodded, leading the horses down the sandstone hill.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	10. The Companions and the Map

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Sorry for making her delirious for two chapters, but it's over now.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

As they rode, they talked very little. The land became rocky and uneven as they continued to skirt the road by a few leagues. Alycie rode silently. She could not remember how she had come to be with these two unfamiliar men. The last few days were a blur when she tried to recall them, and the last thing she could remember was walking through the plains after escaping Dras-Leona.

The fair-haired traveler with whom she was now companions was, as she had come to understand, named Eragon, and he was fleeing the Empire along with his large, blue dragon, Saphira. She had always believed that the dragons had been wiped out, but clearly she was behind the times. It was never required of a slave to know of current events in Alagaësia. The dark-haired companion astride the gray horse was called Murtagh, and he was fleeing the Empire as well. Neither of the two talked of their pasts, much to Alycie's discomfort, so she kept her own to herself.

The thing she found most unsettling, however, was that the two acted as if she were merely just another companion with whom they didn't speak. They gave her a share of the food they hunted and notified her when they were going to stop, but aside from that they rode in silence. Occasionally they would discuss the Empire's plans or something like archery, but Alycie ignored those talks, feeling too ignorant to interject.

They entered a town after a few days, and Alycie noted how the two pulled their hoods up over their faces. When the three booked a room at an inn and were settling in, Murtagh turned to her, feeling her forehead.

"Fever's gone," he noted, his eyes connecting with hers. "You're not delirious anymore then?"

"Was I ever?" asked Alycie, puzzled. Murtagh nodded, a faint smile playing around his mouth. Small, cold dreads trickled through the back of Alycie's mind, but she ignored them.

"Do you remember your name now?" asked Murtagh.

"What? Yes...did I not?" asked Alycie.

"No, you didn't."

"Oh...sorry...my name is Alycie," she said, holding out a hand.

"Murtagh," said Murtagh, shaking it. "And that is Eragon."

"I gathered that," said Alycie. She brushed a tangled lock of hair out of her eyes. "How long have I been traveling with you two?"

"Less than a week," said Eragon, looking over. "So...you'll be staying here, then?"

"What?" asked Alycie.

"Well, now that you're recovered, you wouldn't want to continue traveling with us," said Eragon. "So...we could leave you the gold you needed and continue on our way."

"Well...where are you going?" asked Alycie.

"Gil'ead," said Murtagh.

"Could I accompany you there?"

"Can't see why you would," said Murtagh. "The Empire is after us both. We didn't want to drag you into this at all, but there was no other choice when you were sick. It's not a good idea to stay with us any more than you must."

"Don't leave me here, please, I wish to continue with you to Gil'ead," pleaded Alycie. Both males stared at her.

"Why?" asked Eragon.

You keep your secrets, and I'll keep mine," said the girl, crossing her arms. Eragon sighed, nodding. Murtagh considered her levelly.

"Fair enough," he said.

"Now, did I hear right? You have gold?" asked Alycie.

"Yes. Why?" asked Eragon. Alycie pulled out the small silver dagger, waving it around pointedly.

"You two walk around with those gigantic broadswords and you expect me to fight with this thing?" she asked. Murtagh took the dagger, flipping it experimentally. His arm shot out like a snake and the dagger imbedded itself in the far wall, two inches from Eragon's head. Eragon pulled it out, staring at Murtagh in shock.

"Why did you do that!?" he demanded. Murtagh took the knife from him and handed it back to Alycie.

"We don't need another sword," he said to both of them. Alycie took the weapon, frowning at it.

"I am to travel with you then...positively?" she asked. Murtagh looked at Eragon, who shrugged.

"Yes."

"Then I'm not traveling in a dress," said Alycie, standing and walking to the door.

"You can't travel without shoes either," called Murtagh. He tossed her a small pouch of crowns and she closed the door.

The small bag of money felt oddly heavy in her hands. She opened it and counted the coins, her eyes widening at the amount. She had dealt with money before. Who hadn't? It just hadn't been hers to spend then. A new unfamiliar sense of self-responsibility had set in, and the thought of her freedom blazed in her mind brighter than ever.

In a tailor's around the corner, she managed to get a leather tunic and a pair of pants sewn from a sturdy fabric, buying thick shoes as well. As she was returning to the inn, however, she caught sight of herself in a puddle on the road. Her long, light-brown locks were trailing well below her shoulders, ending in knots around her waist. It would definitely get in the way.

Slowly, she drew the small dagger, her eyes still transfixed on her appearance, and she held her hair steady, holding the knife to the strands. She sighed, tugging it through. A clump of hair fell to the dirty ground. She held the strands steady, slicing through again. She cut a few more times, trying in vain to make the ends even, then brushed the extra cutoffs away, leaving choppy ends hanging about her shoulders. Satisfied, she sheathed the dagger by shoving it down her shoe, walking back into the inn.

She found Murtagh and Eragon sitting in the pub, both drinking rather large beers. Alycie joined them, handing the remaining coins over to Murtagh. In the center of the table lay a map. Of what, Alycie couldn't tell. She could make out mountains and rivers, but she couldn't read the runes written by the small dots.

"What's this?" she asked. Eragon glanced up briefly.

"A map," he said.

"I know it's a map," said Alycie. "But what is it a map of?"

"Alagaësia," said Eragon. Alycie blushed.

"Oh, I see..." she mumbled.

"The Ramr River starts a few miles ahead," said Murtagh, pointing at a line on the map. "We'll stick to that up to Gil'ead. We'll have to skirt Urû'baen here. There's security miles around there."

"...What's that right there?" asked Alycie, pointing at three small zigzags on the map.

"Helgrind," said Eragon. Alycie looked at the small dot above it.

"So that's Dras-Leona..."

"Yes," said Eragon. Alycie's mouth opened as she looked at the rest of the map. She'd never realized how big Alagaësia was. If Dras-Leona was a dot...it was too much to comprehend.

"Where are we now?"

"There." He pointed at the small space between the end of the Ramr River and Helgrind. Murtagh rolled up the map, handing it to Eragon.

"We leave at dawn," he said, standing and walking up to their room. Alycie and Eragon followed.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	11. The Capital and the Actors

**Disclaimer:: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Their travels continued, passing through small village after small village. Alycie enjoyed the freedom of remaining undisguised while Murtagh and Eragon traded different color beards and cloaks, sometimes sporting their swords or a bow. Always they would avoid eye contact with anyone they met while Alycie smiled at all who passed her. Wanted posters began to appear with Eragon's face on it. Murtagh did not have posters, but he insisted on disguising himself anyway.

Alycie came to know her companions without inquiring about their pasts. Murtagh seemed to know every angle of the politics that controlled the country, naming the many nobles as if they were people in his own village. Alycie also noticed that Eragon had an affinity for jails. In every town they passed through, he would search through for a jail, disappear inside for a time, and then rejoin the group at the inn or pub.

Saphira, whom accompanied them outside of the cities, was another companion Alycie came to know. She quickly learned, by way of sharp reprimands from Eragon, that Saphira was as human as any one of them and, in many cases, much wiser. She soon began to address the scaly reptile directly, receiving replies relayed by Eragon.

As they drew farther and farther north, plans began to be discussed about the dark capital, Urû'baen. They rode slowly that day, drawing out the daylight as long as they could. Night found them standing still with the city in plain sight. Saphira had flown off, beginning to cover the ground in a wide arc around Urû'baen so as not to be spotted by Galbatorix or his minions.

"There are guards patrolling every road, every bridge, and every building of the capital," said Murtagh in the failing light as they rode along towards the dark, foreboding, yet magnificent city.

"So how are we going to get by without raising the alarm?" asked Eragon. Alycie watched as a man with a horse trotted down the road. He stopped at the guard, speaking for a moment. The guard allowed him passage. She nodded to herself, but suddenly became aware of the silence surrounding them. She turned to see that both of her companions were staring pointedly at her.

"What?" she asked.

"There is only one of us whose identity has remained unknown to the Empire," said Eragon.

"Yes?"

"And that person will need to speak with the guards at every post that stops us," said Murtagh. Alycie felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"And how will you two get through?" she asked. "I can't carry you in bags."

"We will act as your servants," said Eragon, remembering the auction he'd seen in Dras-Leona. "Your slaves."

"No, I don't want slaves..." said Alycie quickly. Murtagh let out a frustrated growl.

"This is how we're going to get by," he said heatedly. "We don't care how you feel about slaves! We care about getting past this hellhole and into Gil'ead! Now, can you act as a slave-owner!?"

"Yes," said Alycie quietly. Murtagh's face softened.

"Then go with the act. Do anything to be convincing. Just don't get us caught."

"Alright," said Alycie, dismounting Cadoc. She reached into a bag and pulled out her old dress. It was still ragged from her first escape, but it would do. She tugged it on over her clothes and walked to Eragon and Murtagh, who had dismounted and were pulling on their cloaks to hide their faces. Alycie shook her head.

"No, slaves don't wear cloaks," she said. "You'll have to remain in those shirts and pants only. You might want to hide your boots as well; they look too rich for a slave. Muss your hair and dirty your faces to avoid recognition if you must. You've been traveling in hard conditions. You must look like it."

The two males followed her commands, matting dirt into their hair and smudging their cheeks. Alycie grabbed two bandages and wrapped Eragon's head briefly, dirtying that as well. She stood back, surveying them with approval.

"What is our story?" she asked.

"You've done a wonderful job creating us," said Murtagh. "Now you're the Mistress. You're traveling north to visit a sick relative, and we are aiding you on your journey."

Alycie nodded, mounting Snowfire rather than Cadoc, and rode forward confidently toward the first guard. Murtagh and Eragon mounted Tornac and Cadoc, following her at a trot.

"Halt!" called the soldier as they neared him. Alycie pulled Snowfire's reins gently, tossing her shorter hair in annoyance.

"What is this about, then?" she asked him in a bored, proud voice as her companions arrived behind her.

"Galbatorix has ordered that all those passing in or through Urû'baen be questioned briefly. There are some nasty characters about, you see, Miss," replied the man.

"Carry on, then," said Alycie, waving her hand lazily for him to continue.

"First, are you passing through or into the city?"

"Through."

"Your destination?"

"Gil'ead of course! There's nothing else up in that northern region worth visiting!" exclaimed Alycie.

"And I shall need to know your names," said the guard.

"I am Nelana, of Belatona," said Alycie. "This is my steed, Diohart. These two fine animals are known as Mirriad and Kurik." She pointed back at the horses Murtagh and Eragon rode.

"And who are those companions of yours?" asked the guard.

"Hardly companions!" scoffed Alycie in haughty shock. "Traveling is such a hard road, one needs her slaves to alleviate the work load, of course!"

"I still need their names, Miss. I'm under orders," said the man.

"Oh I don't know," said Alycie, shrugging in disgust. "I believe that is Duro and that is...oh...Callet."

"What happened to him?" asked the soldier, gesturing at the bandage that wrapped Eragon's head.

"He crossed me, of course. Impertinent youth!" said Alycie proudly. "Disrespect yields harsh punishment."

"Indeed it does, Miss," said the soldier.

"Well then, am I fit to pass?" asked Alycie.

"Go on," said the guard. Murtagh galloped forward eagerly. Alycie smacked him down, causing him to fall from Tornac.

"A slave never rides before the Master unless ordered!" she screeched at him. He stared in bewilderment. "Well don't just sit there gaping like a fish! Stand up and stop being a hindrance! Remember, you are lowly and unimportant. Who would care if I killed you right here and now where you stand?"

"Yes, Nelana," said Murtagh in an undertone, mounting Tornac once more. He was smacked down once more.

"You will address me as _MISTRESS_! I should whip you for your impertinence! But we are late, and I grow weary. Come, if we would get through these blasted security posts before dawn to see poor ill Uncle Morrill." For the third time, Murtagh mounted his horse, riding behind Alycie until the guard was out of sight.

"Was that necessary?" he asked in amazement.

"You told me to be convincing," said Alycie tonelessly.

"Yes, but we were through," said Murtagh.

"He was still watching," said Alycie. Eragon, who had been considering her, spoke up.

"You've been in that situation before," he stated.

"Yes, but not exactly," said Alycie.

"How then?" asked Eragon. Alycie shook her head.

"Secrets, secrets, my friend. As long as you two insist on keeping your deep dark pasts to yourselves, I won't be the one babbling my life away."

"Fine," said Eragon in a slightly disappointed voice. Murtagh's face was devoid of expression.

"There's another post up that way," he said, nodding at a corner. "Same routine as before. Though I believe I won't be riding before the Mistress again."

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**It's small, square, purple, and down to your lower left. Point, click, and type please!**


	12. The Stories and the Swordfight

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

With Urû'baen behind them and the long journey upriver ahead, a relaxed air had settled over the travelers. Saphira had rejoined them a mile outside of the capital and they had covered much land since, over many days. Murtagh had taken a bow and gone hunting, leaving Alycie, Eragon, and Saphira sitting in the camp.

"So how long have you and Murtagh known each other?" asked Alycie, looking up. The Rider returned her gaze.

"As long as you have," he replied. Alycie raised her eyebrows.

"Honestly?" she asked.

"Honestly. You weren't in your right mind at the start, but we've all been acquaintances for the same amount of time."

"You act as longtime friends would," said Alycie.

"We are just similar in nature," said Eragon. Alycie sighed.

"I hate this secrecy," she said.

"Secrecy unfolds when one reveals herself to her companions," said Eragon pointedly.

"I won't until one of you reveals himself," said the girl, crossing her arms. Eragon smiled.

"At the same time, then?" he asked. "One question at a time?" Alycie thought, looking at him.

"Agreed," she said. "From where are you originally?"

"Carvahall," said Eragon. Alycie looked confused. "In the north by the Spine. And you?"

"Dras-Leona," said Alycie. "How did you end up down here?"

"Well there's no use hiding my identity as a Rider," said Eragon. "I found Saphira's egg in the Spine and raised her there. Then the Ra'zac came to my town and killed my uncle, destroying our farm. Brom took me and we fled Carvahall to hunt them down for revenge. I didn't know he was a Rider until he was on his deathbed. We conversed with a friend of his in Teirm and were directed to Dras-Leona. He taught me swordplay and magic while he was alive, as well as how to care for Saphira. I owe him everything..." He stopped and they sat in silence for a while. Then he looked back up at her. "What of you, then? What's your story?"

"I've lived in Dras-Leona all my life with my brother, Garrick. He and I were supposed to meet outside in the plains, but I never found him. That's when I saw your fire." She stopped, feeling slightly guilty about hiding the complete story. Eragon seemed to pick it up in her tone though.

"You were a slave weren't you?" he asked. She nodded.

"In the mayor's palace. My brother belonged to a merchant. I saw him maybe once, twice a year. We were supposed to escape together..." Her voice cracked as she dropped her gaze to the ground. "He must have been caught..."

"His master caught him?" asked Eragon. Alycie shook her head.

"No, he was de--" She looked up as the figure of Murtagh appeared, a young doe hanging over his shoulders. Eragon looked up as well. The dark-haired male stopped, looking at them both in turn.

"Don't stop on my account," he said, laying the prey down and pulling out a knife, sitting and beginning to skin the animal.

Alycie looked away, staring off into the distant hills. The only sounds for a time were that of the crackling fire and the snorting of the horses. They ate the meat in silence as the sun moved through the sky. Afterwards, Eragon removed his shirt, unwrapping the bandages that bound the wound from the Ra'zac, stretching. After a moment of testing, he stood, satisfied, pulling his shirt back on and looking at Murtagh, drawing Zar'roc.

"Now that I am strong enough, would you like to spar?" he asked.

"With sharpened swords? We could kill each other," said Murtagh.

"Here, give me your sword," said Eragon, holding out a hand. Alycie watched as he took Murtagh's hand-and-a-half sword and touched it, muttering a word in the ancient language. A light moved up the length of the blade, leaving it looking normal, yet different. He handed it back to it's owner, who tested the edges. They seemed blunted. "I can undo that once we're finished," said Eragon.

"It will do," said Murtagh after a moment of testing.

He stood, removing his cloak and easing into a stance as he faced Eragon, who was crouching. The latter swung with the broadsword, meeting the former's blade with a clang. Alycie watched as they blocked and parried, thrusting and striking at unbelievable speeds. She had never seen a swordfight, least of all one of this magnitude. Fistfights she had seen in a great multitude, and had participated in quite a few times. But swordplay was like a dance. A deadly and beautiful dance of fate between two beings.

The fight, or dance, lasted for quite a while as neither competitor managed to gain the upper hand. They moved quickly still, maneuvering around the bedrolls and fire, once even coming uncomfortably near Alycie. Finally, it was Eragon who stopped.

"Enough, halt!" he cried, sitting on the dusty ground. Murtagh followed suit gratefully. Both were breathing hard.

"You're amazing! I've studied swordplay all my life, but never have I fought one like you. You could be the king's weapon master if you wanted to," said Murtagh in admiration.

"You're just as good," said Eragon. "The man who taught you, Tornac, could make a fortune with a fencing school. People would come from all parts of Alagaësia to learn from him."

"He's dead," said Murtagh.

"I'm sorry," said Eragon. Alycie shook her head.

"That was the most magnificent thing I've ever seen," she said. Both of her companions turned to her.

"Thank you," said Eragon.

"Can you fight?" asked Murtagh.

"Not at all," said Alycie. "But how hard could it be? It's just jabbing and swinging a big, heavy piece of sharp metal." Immediately she knew she had said the wrong thing. Both males were on her in a second, reprimanding her.

"You have no idea!" Eragon was saying. "You have to know specific moves and how to block them! Anticipating what your opponent will do as well! Not to mention the footwork!" Murtagh was speaking at the same time.

"Some have to study the art their entire lives! One cannot just pick up a sword and swing it at an opponent and expect to win! It takes dedication and practice!" he said.

"Teach me then," said Alycie. "Just enough for survival." Murtagh nodded, standing along with Eragon.

"Get up then, and let's see what you have so far," he said. Alycie stood, and not two seconds later Murtagh's blade was at her throat. "Dead," he said.

"I assumed we hadn't started yet," she said in puzzlement.

"Never assume," replied Murtagh. "Now get your weapon."

"I have none," said Alycie. Murtagh pointed his sword at her throat once more with a smirk.

"Dead," he said. Alycie pushed the blunted edge away impatiently, reaching down and removing the small dagger from her shoe.

"You really expect me to fight off Urgals, soldiers, and who knows what else with _this_?" she asked.

"No, I expect you to run and get somewhere safe while we fight off Urgals, soldiers, and who knows what else with our swords and not use _that_ unless the need is dire," said Murtagh. Alycie glared at him. Suddenly, she struck out sharply with the dagger, meeting Murtagh's sword in midair. Murtagh looked at Eragon.

"Would you safeguard her dagger as well? I don't feel like suffering a splinter today," he said mockingly. Eragon quickly uttered the words before Alycie comprehended the insult.

She drew the dagger back, thrusting it forward at his stomach. He blocked, smirking at her. Alycie lifted her remaining hand and slapped him across the cheek, causing his head to spin back from the force.

"Alycie, it's a _swordfight_," said Eragon, stifling his laughter as Murtagh looked spitefully at her. She smirked.

"I wasn't aware there were rules against fists," she said. Murtagh pushed her dagger aside, looking into her eyes.

"No. Fists."

"Well, now I know," said Alycie. Murtagh looked at Eragon.

"You teach. I'll watch," he said, sitting down on the ground and crossing his arms. Eragon looked at Alycie.

"Well," he said. "Start by defending yourself."

He struck out quickly with Zar'roc. Alycie flung the small dagger up to block, but it missed the blade and she felt a blow to her chest. She staggered back, wincing at the pain. But he didn't stop. She moved the dagger to block a swing to her legs. This time the blades met. She smiled in relief, but it was short-lived as Zar'roc suddenly appeared by her waist. She moved quickly, falling to the ground so that the sword swung over harmlessly. She rolled over and lifted the dagger in time to block the sword as it dove towards her body. Eragon's sword twisted and the dagger flew out of her hands. She watched it sail through the air and land on the ground a few feet away, but then looked at the point of the sword in front of her face.

"Dead," said Eragon. Alycie sighed, her head falling back onto the dusty ground.

"Horrible," said Murtagh from the sidelines. "You went easy on her."

"I won't next time," said Eragon. Alycie got to her feet, dusting herself off and retrieving her dagger.

"I won't lose next time," said Alycie. Murtagh smirked.

"I doubt that," he said.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	13. The Changes and the Doubts

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**I went back and changed Eragon's appearance as described in the previous chapters due to complaints. I was planning on doing the movie version since I only read the books a few weeks ago when the movie was the visual, so I never got to imagine him my own way. So, they're back to the book version, and please enjoy the chapter!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Sparring after meals in the evening became a routine occurrence. First, Eragon and Murtagh would fight to their exhaustion. Then, they would test Alycie on swordplay; the positions and moves first, agility building later on, and eventually footwork. She was nowhere near as talented as either Murtagh or Eragon, but her training would suffice.

She managed to learn two or three words in Eragon's 'ancient language' as well. He had made a habit of practicing his skill every day. Murtagh seemed to have a better understanding of the language than Alycie by far, but then, he was always more knowledgeable in matters of which she hadn't a clue. The ignorance slavery had bestowed on her upset her several times, but she hid it from her companions. Once while they rode along, Alycie had been requested to read the map. She managed to stutter her way through that incident without many questions, but she couldn't handle it if it happened again.

Over the journey, the three grew closer in friendship. Alycie quickly picked up on their personalities. Eragon seemed to be well-informed of events in Alagaësia, as well as the history of the land and kingdom. He was sure of himself as well as being conscious of the other two, mainly Alycie, through some sort of mental ability that enabled him to speak with Saphira. He and Murtagh were alike in many ways, but Alycie had her own little set of similarities she shared with the young Rider. Both had little knowledge of locations in Alagaësia aside from their general location, and they both came from low status livelihoods.

Murtagh, as ever, remained mostly a mystery. He always hunted alone, apart from once when Alycie had followed to test her dagger in the wilderness. Though he acted as a wanderer, Alycie could tell he was of some sort of nobility. She didn't voice this suspicion, but it seemed obvious to her by the silver-lined horn and fine bow he carried. He was civilized as well, contrasting with the usual wanderers Alycie had come across in Dras-Leona as they stopped for a night. His intense knowledge of the government supported her theory as well. She didn't say anything to Eragon, but she suspected he noticed this as well. Neither of them had bothered sharing their pasts with Murtagh as they had with each other.

Saphira had come to be a friend to Alycie as well. She would reprimand Murtagh and Eragon with a sharp growl if either one teased her too much. It made Alycie feel good to know that she wasn't the only girl in the group, but the limited communication ability between her and the dragon prevented them from becoming very close. They remained distant friends nonetheless.

A month passed, during which Alycie felt her muscles ache, strain, and grow stronger. The travel and sparring was driving away the years of comfort in the palace and was shaping her into a type of wandering warrior. She noticed these same changes in Eragon as well, though subtler considering that he had been on the road longer than she had.

Also, other changes had come over Alycie over the weeks. She found herself staring, not at the scenery as would have been expected from one who had been secluded all her life, but at her companions. She had had this feeling before, back in the palace amongst the other male slaves around her age. Especially one who went by the name of Laun. He had haunted her dreams for many nights. Now, it seemed, the same was happening with Murtagh and Eragon. She would slip into distant daydreams, staring at Eragon's eyes or Murtagh's face, her eyes darting to look at the ground as soon as one of them noticed her staring. Once they had questioned her.

"What is it?" asked Eragon as he had seen Alycie's vacant expression. She blinked, a blush rising to her face.

"Huh?"

"You're staring at me," said Eragon. Murtagh was looking at her as well. Alycie's mind was drawing a blank as she tried to think quickly. Then she cleared her throat.

"Oh...erm...it's just that you have a...nothing, nevermind, forget I said it," she said, shaking her head. Eragon looked at her suspiciously, his hand involuntarily moving to his face, rubbing it self-consciously.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, nothing," said Alycie, her composure recovered. She fixed her eyes on a point above the Rider's head. "Erm...just...nice hair..."

His hand moved to his brown hair, smoothing it quickly. Murtagh laughed, turning back to watch the road as Alycie let out a silent sigh of relief. Eragon sent a glare upward at where Saphira soared above him. No doubt she was laughing as well. He rolled his eyes at Alycie before fixing his gaze on the road as well.

Then, one cloudy afternoon, the group reached their destination. Alycie quickly noted how much larger Gil'ead was compared to Dras-Leona. It was obvious that it was very similar in nature, however. The foreboding buildings could be seen from a distance through a heavy haze of smoke rising from the log buildings. Loud, barking dogs could be heard from even where they were two miles away from the actual city. They had decided to camp at a distance as a safety caution.

"I'm not sure you should be the one to go into Gil'ead," said Murtagh as the fire crackled under what was to be their dinner. Alycie and Eragon looked at him in puzzlement.

"Why? I can disguise myself well enough," he argued.

"And wouldn't the man we're going to see want to see that gedwëy insignia? I mean just to be sure he's who he is," said Alycie.

"Perhaps, but the Empire wants you much more than me. If I'm captured, I could eventually escape. But if _you_ are taken, they'll drag you to the king, where you'll be in for a slow death by torture...unless you join him. Plus, Gil'ead is one of the army's major staging points. Those aren't houses out there; they're barracks. Going in there would be like handing yourself to the king on a gilded platter."

"Wait, why wouldn't I go in?" asked Alycie, furrowing her brow. "Like we did in Urû'baen?"

"Are you capable?" asked Murtagh, looking at her. Alycie frowned.

"Yes. I can take care of myself. Nobody has a reason to chase after me, and I only have to go to the nearest bar and ask around for this person."

"Dormnad," said Eragon.

"Yes, him," said Alycie. Murtagh looked back at the fire, his face impassive. Alycie stared. "You think I am incapable of giving someone a message?"

"I have my doubts," said Murtagh, glancing at her briefly.

"Don't you trust me?" she asked.

"I trust no one," said Murtagh. Alycie rolled her eyes.

"Fine, then go and be caught. Leave our incapable selves out in the wilderness on our own without your capable abilities to protect us from the king," she said, turning away.

"He didn't say I was incapable," interjected Eragon. "Saphira and I can survive on our own."

"And I can't, of course, because I'm just a poor, little, defenseless urchin who depends on everyone to protect her," said Alycie in a mocking voice, crossing her arms.

"I haven't seen you do otherwise," said Murtagh darkly. "One would go so far as to think you were a child." Alycie stood wordlessly, though fury emanated from her in waves. She turned away from the fire, walking off towards the city.

Soon, the faint voices of her companions faded from her ears and she was left in the company of her own breathing. In her anger, she had left Cadoc tied back with Snowfire and Tornac. One mistake she knew would be brought up again. Also, she had not received her share of the meal. Another mistake. Her stomach rumbled hungrily as a reminder of her stupidity as she walked along.

A mile had been covered when the sound of hoof beats reached the girl's ears. She looked back over her shoulder, seeing the gray horse of Murtagh galloping towards her, rider astride him. She turned her head away, growling under her breath. She did not look up as Murtagh's steed slowed to a walk beside her.

"You left your rabbit," said the familiar deep voice.

"I wasn't hungry..." grumbled Alycie. Her stomach let out a growl.

"I see," said Murtagh, and Alycie could tell he was smiling, though she did not look up.

"Come to taunt me then?" she asked.

"No, actually, I came to apologize," he said. Alycie looked up at him, stopping. Tornac stopped as well.

"Go on," she said. Murtagh sighed.

"I'm sorry that I criticized your ability to care for yourself," he said.

"You're forgiven," said Alycie.

"We'll go in together," he continued. "I won't say anything. You lead, I follow." Alycie looked at him.

"Deal," she said, holding up a hand. He shook it, smiling.

"Now would you like to get there at nightfall or could Tornac and I offer you a ride?" he asked.

"Thank you," said Alycie, taking Murtagh's hand and mounting Tornac behind him. He dug his heels into the gray war-horse's side and they resumed galloping to Gil'ead.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	14. The Trips and the Fall

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Just saw the movie today and it really was a disappointment. Good to see if you haven't read the books, but not at all as good as the books. Murtagh rocked though, even though he was HARDLY THERE AT ALL!!! **

**Okay, so I know most of you are all "OMG WHERE'S THE ROMANCE!?" and I should tell you I DON'T HAVE A CLUE! I'll try and get it in there soon, but until Eragon gets captured and they finally get some 'alone time' I don't think much will happen. Luckily that's the next chapter so I'm gonna try my hardest!**

**In the meantime, enjoy the movie best you can and pray that _Eldest_ makes up for it. Also, THIRD BOOK COMING OUT EVENTUALLY SO FINGERS CROSSED ALL YOU MURTAGH FANS!!!**

**I know I'm one. Anyway, read on and review much!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Once inside the outer ring of security around Gil'ead, Alycie became aware of just how thankful she was that Murtagh had come along. Men were fighting in the streets in drunken brawls or just fits of anger. The dogs' mouths frothed as they leapt at the grungy civilians who passed them by. Everyone was shouting.

"Who are we looking for again?" asked Alycie, turning back to Murtagh. He shrugged.

"You lead, I follow. I know only what you know," he said. Alycie's eyes grew wide when she turned back to the road. He had come to oversee, but he would do nothing to assist her. Even to tell her the name of the man to be found.

"Right...I'll ask someone in there," said Alycie, looking at a pub that expelled about two drunk, fighting men every minute. Murtagh shrugged, crossing his arms. Alycie dismounted, then looked back at him. "And you're coming with me," she added. He dismounted Tornac, leading him to a stable nearby, quickly paying the man and returning. They entered...

...and immediately had to dodge a body flying through the air. A large mountain of a man stood a ways away, his ruddy face twisted in anger. The rest of the crowd in the pub were all cheering drunkenly, watching the thrown man as he staggered to his feet. Alycie grabbed Murtagh's arm, leading him to the counter. She was holding it for comfort rather than for leadership.

"Excuse me," she said as they reached the bar. The barman didn't look over; too busy cheering on the large man in the fight. "Excu...oh to Helgrind with it! OI! SERVICE HERE YOU FOP!" The man looked over, and then grumbled in annoyance, walking over. Murtagh turned his cloaked face towards the wall.

"Whad'ye want?" growled the man.

"I be need'n ter find someone," said Alycie, matching his accent confidently. One eye narrowed on the barman's gruff face.

"My memory's not wha' it used ter be I'm afraid," he said. "Bu ' if I could be reminded..." He held out his hand. Alycie turned to Murtagh. She hesitated. She could handle the situation without him. She didn't need his help...even if it was money. She reached slowly into her boot.

Alycie stood up and turned quickly, catching the man's outstretched hand, still waiting for the coins, and holding it to the table, her dagger at the notable vein on his wrist. He struggled immediately and nearly caught hold of her hand.

"Hey!" she said. "Move tha' hand there and I slit this."

The bartender looked angrily from his captive wrist to his captor's smirking face. His other hand lifted back and, before Alycie realized her mistake, propelled forward into her face. She fell back, her dagger falling to the floor. Murtagh caught the bartender, holding him up threateningly and muttering. Alycie bent over, picking up her dagger, and stormed out of the pub, her face glowing red.

She marched along the street for a moment, sitting down on the steps to a large marble building, her hand on her throbbing eye. Humiliation was sinking in, making her curse herself as she shoved the dagger back into her boot. She had been overconfident, and that overconfidence had cost her her dignity. Her ego had gotten in the way of her sensibility. Stupid...stupid...She stared at the ground for a minute or two, resentment filling her to the brim, when two black boots appeared in front of her. She sighed as she recognized them. A deep voice filled her ears.

"How is your eye?"

"It hurts," said Alycie.

"I asked the man again where we could find Dormnad and he was kind enough to inform me." Alycie nodded, but didn't respond.

Her fists clenched and her face screwed up in anger. She shouldn't have acted so rashly. She should have seen what would happen. She'd only had one of his hands and she'd expected him to bend to her will like a worm! She shouldn't be dwelling on this either. A bruised eye and she was falling apart like a weak little child! Her bruised ego hurt more than the bruised eye anyway. She looked away as Murtagh bent down to her level, his gray eyes fixed on her face.

"Let me see," he said, his face full of compassion. Alycie glanced at him, her eyes meeting his. Shame coursed through her as she met his gaze. He reached up and pulled her hand away from her eye, looking at it. Alycie waited for a reprimand for her actions as she watched Murtagh evaluate her. "It seems to be alright. You'll have a mark for a while, but you'll live." He stood up. Alycie looked up at him miserably. "Stand up and dry your eyes. Eragon is waiting for us still," he said. Alycie nodded, standing. She hesitated.

"I'm not crying," she said.

"That doesn't change the fact that Eragon is waiting," said Murtagh. Alycie rolled her eyes and followed him.

"Will you tell him about my mistake?" she asked after a minute.

"Not if you don't want me to," replied Murtagh. Alycie nodded, grateful.

"Now...where did the barman say Dormnad was?" she asked.

"A few blocks down in a pub he frequently visits called_ 'The Fighting Cork'_."

"I thought you weren't going to assist me," she said.

"It seemed that you really did need it," said Murtagh.

They continued to walk down the road, Murtagh avoiding eye contact with those they passed, his cloak pulled low over his eyes to hide his face from view. Alycie felt oddly exposed amongst the secretive crowd, and wished she had bothered to take a cloak as well. She kept close to Murtagh, aware of the fact that any one of these strangers could separate her from him if she wandered to far ahead.

They stopped at several pubs where Alycie stared at the sign out front, struggling to decipher the runes inscribed. Murtagh sat back and watched as she counted the spaces in between, for she knew the name of the pub was three words and that meant two spaces. After an hour of wandering, Murtagh ventured to speak.

"You can't read, can you?" he asked as Alycie was faced with another sign. She looked back at him.

"I can," she said in what she hoped was an indignant voice.

"What does that say then?" asked Murtagh, pointing at the sign. Alycie looked back up at it.

"..._'The Fighting Cork'?"_ she asked.

"Why ask if you are sure what it says?" asked Murtagh.

"Fine, I can't read!" shouted Alycie at him. "Just rub it in my face along with my incapability to do anything by myself! "

"I wasn't rubbing anything in your face," said Murtagh. "I was simply asking a question. You said you were capable of completing this task, but I have yet to see that capability be proven. Now are you going to continue to yell at me, or are you going to ask for help this one last time?" Alycie stopped, glaring at the pub as she calmed herself down. She looked back at him.

"Where is the pub?" she asked. Murtagh pointed down the street from whence they'd come.

"A bit down that way," he said. "I could lead you to it if you would like."

"Thank you very much," spat Alycie through her teeth. They backtracked along the streets of Gil'ead, finding the correct pub and entering.

This pub was similar to the last, except for the fact that there was not one fight with the others rallied around it, but rather many smaller fights filling the room. Alycie let Murtagh handle the bartender's interrogation and followed him to a ruddy-faced man sitting alone at a far table. Alycie sat across from him, Murtagh lurking behind her, staring at the brawling crowds.

"Are you called Dormnad?" asked Alycie. The man looked up, not terribly drunk.

"Depends on 'oo's askin'," he said. Alycie leaned in.

"I come on behalf of a Rider," she said quietly. The man's eyes widened and he leaned in as well.

"Tha's 'ardly somethin' ter speak of ligh'ly, Miss," he whispered. "'Ow do I know you ain' puttin' me on?" Alycie paused, open-mouthed. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find Murtagh handing her a small ring Eragon had worn. She took it, handing it to the man, who examined it in awe.

"Believe me now?" asked Alycie.

"I'm leanin' towards it," said Dormnad. He looked at Alycie. "So it's hatched?"

"Yes. And we need to know the road to the Varden," said Alycie. Dormnad handed the ring back to Alycie, frowning.

"This could very well be a trap," he said. "But if there's a Rider, tell 'im I'll meet 'im on a small 'ill across the road outside Gil'ead a' sunrise. If 'ee really is a Rider, I'll take 'im to the Varden."

"Thank you, sir," said Alycie, grinning and standing. "Sunrise then."

She and Murtagh left the pub. Alycie was feeling happier than she had all day that the little interview had gone by without fault, not counting Murtagh's little intervention with the ring, under her lead. It made up for her previous blunders, leaving her feeling accomplished. She had been capable in the end.

They arrived at the stables where Tornac was being held. Alycie stood behind Murtagh as he paid the boy. Suddenly, unbeknownst to them, a little boy in rags had turned a nearby corner suddenly, and ran fast towards them. His eyes had been looking back over his shoulders at a pursuer who had not turned onto the street yet, and the boy did not see Alycie step unknowingly into his path. he looked up just as they collided, sending her toppling backwards to the ground. The boy scrambled to his feet, taking off as his pursuer turned the corner.

"HEY YOU! THIEF! Wait..."

Alycie sat up, seeing something fall off of herself into her lap as she did so. She grabbed it, holding it up to look at it. It was a cloak. She looked up suddenly, and her eyes met those of Murtagh. His face was contorted in fury.

"MURTAGH!" came a cry. He turned sharply, spotting the peasant boy's pursuer.

With an angry yell, he pulled Alycie to her feet, leaping onto Tornac with her, and kicking his heels into the warhorse's side. He leaned low to Tornac's neck as they sped out of Gil'ead. Alycie pressed herself down against Murtagh's back, guilt flushing through her once more. She could hear his angry breathing issuing in time to Tornac's panting as they galloped along at alarming speed. She closed her eyes. Murtagh dismounted his steed quickly when the reached the camp, striding over to Eragon.

"What's wrong?" asked the Rider.

"Did anyone follow us from Gil'ead?" asked Murtagh, a note of anger audible in his voice. Behind him, Alycie silently dismounted Tornac.

"We didn't see anyone," responded Eragon, confused.

"Good," said Murtagh, sitting and pulling a bowl towards him, scooping some of the soup in the pot over the fire into it. "Then let me eat before I explain. I'm starving." He began to shovel the food down rapidly.

Eragon looked at Alycie, who avoided his gaze. She felt the familiar brush against her consciousness and shot him a brief glare. Murtagh began to speak after a few gulps, his voice thick with food that still filled his mouth as he spoke of the plan they had formed with Dormnad. Alycie took a bowl and began scooping her dinner out of the pot, though, despite the long day of hunger, she felt as though she had not the stomach for it.

"So what happened?" asked Eragon. Alycie focused on her dinner, trying to block out the conversation.

"It's a rather simple thing, but all the more deadly because of it: I was seen in the street by someone who knows me. I did the only thing I could do and ran away. It was too late, though; he recognized me," replied Murtagh, pouring more food into his bowl.

"How?" asked Eragon, glancing at Alycie, eyeing her bruised eye. Murtagh glanced at her as well.

"Let's just say it was an accident," he said. Alycie looked up, meeting his gaze for a fraction of a second, then dropping it, looking back at the food she had begun to shovel down.

"I see," said Eragon, not pressing the subject. "Since I don't know your friend, I have to ask: Will he tell anyone?"

"If you _had_ met him, that wouldn't need answering. His mouth is loosely hinged and hangs open all the time, vomiting whatever happens to be in his mind. The question isn't _whether_ he'll tell people, but _whom_ he will tell. If word of this reaches the wrong ears, we'll be in trouble," said Murtagh with a cold laugh.

"He already screamed out your name in the street when he saw you," said Alycie. "So that puts things against us, I'd say."

"Yes, not to mention the fact that he saw me ride off with you on Tornac," said Murtagh. "So your existence is now known."

"So I am on the run as well," said Alycie, laughing once.

"Welcome to the club," said Eragon dryly, turning back to Murtagh. "I doubt that soldiers will be sent to search for you in the dark. We can at least count on being safe until morning, and by then, if all goes well, we'll be leaving with Dormnad."

"No," said Murtagh as he shook his head, "only you will accompany him. As I said before, I won't go to the Varden."

"What?" asked Alycie, looking up. Murtagh and Eragon looked back at her. "We're splitting up?"

"_We_ are," said Murtagh, pointing at Eragon and himself.

"Why?" asked Alycie. Eragon looked at Murtagh unhappily.

"I am to find and join the Varden. He will not go anywhere near them," he said.

"What will you do then?" asked Alycie, looking at Murtagh. He shrugged.

"Continue following the Ra'zac I suppose," he said.

"Well if you aren't sure what path you should take, why not go along with your companions?"

"Let's just say I don't get on well with the Varden," said Murtagh in a final tone. Alycie acknowledged it, going silent, but suspicions chased each other around in her head until sleep finally overtook her a while later.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	15. The Ambush and the Arguments

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Finally you get a small, very small, microscopically small taste of the romance, but do not fret, for it will increase as the story continues.**

**THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME BREAK MY REVIEW RECORD! Standing now at 68 it is the most I have ever received in the shortest time with the least amount of chapters. I love you all!**

**Thank you to The Masquerade Moth for one of the riddles!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

_'Garrick...Garrick...Garrick...Garrick...Garrick...'_

Alycie nearly screamed the name as she was shaken awake, but a hand covered her mouth, preventing the noise. She looked up at the owner of the appendage and felt a wave of relief wash over her when she saw it was Murtagh. He held a finger to his lips, removing his hand slowly.

_'What is it?'_ mouthed Alycie. She noticed the sword in his hand.

"Horses," whispered Murtagh.

Alycie stood slowly, pulling her small dagger out of her boot. Murtagh shook his head, pointing first at her, then to Saphira, who stood ready beside Eragon, and then to the sky. Alycie tried to protest without words, but her companion was already walking to the dragon and Rider, holding his sword ready. Alycie followed cautiously, listening.

A loud snarl suddenly broke the silence and the group turned sharply, coming face to face with an Urgal. Eragon shouted a word in the ancient language and the Urgal exploded suddenly. Alycie turned as Saphira roared loudly in time to see a score or so more of Urgals rush in on them from the side. Murtagh ran out to meet them, clashing swords with a cry. Eragon found himself suddenly occupied with a group of four at one time. Alycie stayed close to Saphira, brandishing her dagger whenever an Urgal came close. Before she could attack a single one, Saphira had dismembered it before her eyes.

"Fly, Saphira!" came a shout and Alycie turned in time to see Eragon fall to the ground unconscious at an Urgal's feet. She began to run towards him, but heard someone call her name. Steely claws closed around her middle and she watched in surprise as her feet left the ground.

From high above, Alycie saw the remaining Urgals lift Eragon onto their shoulders and carry him off towards Gil'ead. Dizziness swept over her and she closed her eyes with a groan. After a moment, she chanced a glance up at Saphira. She was flying determinedly away from Gil'ead and the Urgals, her great blue wings flapping. As she turned back to the ground, she spotted Murtagh riding Tornac, leading the other two horses the same way Saphira was flying. Alycie shouted at him, but he paid her no attention, pointing at a cluster of trees across a short plain and calling something to Saphira that Alycie couldn't hear over the roar of the wind.

They landed in the midst of the pines and firs with a loud thud as Saphira's clawed feet hit the ground. Her curved talons released Alycie suddenly, leaving her standing unsteadily on her own before her imbalance overwhelmed her and she fell over. Murtagh arrived with the horses a minute later, dismounting gracefully, sheathing his blade, and walking to a nearby stream. He knelt down and began splashing water on his face. Alycie scrambled to her feet, marching over to him.

"We have to go back! We have to rescue him!" she cried. "I'll not leave him to rot in a cold, stone prison!" Murtagh looked at her in disbelief, standing.

"Do you really think we would leave Alagaësia's only hope and savior to rot in a cold, stone prison!?" he exclaimed incredulously. "Did you think I would abandon him just like that and run away with his dragon? Do you really think I planned to do that?" Alycie closed her mouth, her face relaxing and growing red as her eyes dropped to the stream.

"No...I...I just thought--" Her eyes flicked back to his apologetically.

"No, you didn't think," said Murtagh, staring at her. "You really don't trust me, do you?"

"How can I when you keep yourself shrouded in secrecy?" asked Alycie.

"Have I done you wrong so far? Have I given you reason not to trust me?" asked Murtagh.

"...No..." said Alycie after a moment. Murtagh raised an eyebrow.

"Then what more evidence do you need?" he asked. Alycie sighed.

"Well I'd trust you more if you told me about yourself," she muttered.

"I can't," said Murtagh. "For reasons you cannot control."

"What do you mean?" asked Alycie.

"Even if you would keep my secrets, they can be extracted from you without your consent. You are aware of how Eragon reads your thoughts. There are others with that same power who use it regularly to get the information they want. Anyone who wanted to know my secrets would have only to go to you and read your mind and they would know."

"And they wouldn't just read yours?" asked Alycie. Murtagh paused.

"I have worked my entire life blocking my mind from invaders," he said. "My mind is the last sanctuary I have, and I intend to protect it by any means possible." Alycie nodded. Murtagh sighed, crossing his arms and looking up at the sky. "Now it will be nearly impossible to get into Gil'ead because of the little _mishap_." Alycie blushed. "I'll have to disguise myself well...Saphira, I will need your help." The dragon roared in approval. "But we cannot go now. The security is always tightest when the capture is fresh." He walked to Tornac, withdrew his bow, and began walking out of the clearing.

"Where are you going?" asked Alycie.

"To hunt. I can't think without a hot meal in my stomach," he called back. Alycie watched him leave, and then looked at Saphira.

"He thinks I'm useless," she said. Saphira gave a low growl, almost like a purr. Alycie looked glumly at her for a moment, then walked to Snowfire, retrieving some flint and tinder.

She made a small pile of dry sticks and leaves and began striking the rocks together to create a fire. After a minute or two, the spark caught. Alycie busied herself finding small stones to enclose the pile so as not to burn the entire clearing to a crisp. After a while, she began finding bigger and bigger sticks to add onto the pile. By the time Murtagh returned, the flame was at a good steady blaze.

Once the food had begun to cook, Murtagh started describing a plan to Saphira. Alycie listened in, feeling slightly reproachful. She had made a few mistakes and now he thought her completely useless. She would not take this.

"I could help you," she said, staring at him.

"How?" asked Murtagh. "You can't fight. You can't read. You can't use magic. What can you do? What is your special skill?" Alycie thought. When one lives her whole life in slavery their skills aren't particularly notable.

"I...I...I riddle," she said finally, remembering the bard, who had turned out to be Brom.

"You riddle. Oh, I see how pretty poems can get us into an armed fortress," said Murtagh sarcastically. Alycie frowned, her mind thinking quickly.

"I am also a woman," she said hesitantly. Murtagh threw another stick onto the blaze, glancing up at her.

"Girl more like," he said tauntingly. "What are you suggesting?"

"Well how else do you plan to keep the guards distracted?" asked Alycie quickly. Murtagh stopped, and then looked up at her in honest shock. He hesitated, his mouth open. He closed it, and then opened once more. He sighed, smiling.

"I am at a loss for words," he said. His smile disappeared as his face became serious. "Are you willing?"

"I suggested it; I should say I am," said Alycie. She was willing, yes, but terrified all the same, though at the moment her fear was quelled by her strong desire to prove herself to this taunting mystery of a man. "Am I not capable of that either in your eyes?"

"Capability isn't the question," said Murtagh, looking her up and down. "I'm positive you are quite capable of distracting the guards. But are you absolutely willing to put yourself in that much danger?" His answer surprised Alycie, and she was surprised to find a concealed compliment in his words. She recovered herself quickly.

"Yes. It is to save the savior of Alagaësia, and a friend," she said. Murtagh laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You must have a death wish," he said. "First you continue to travel with two strangers running from the Empire, then you attempt to venture into Gil'ead alone to find information, and finally you are suggesting to walk right up to a prison guard and put your modesty in danger." He looked at her, puzzlement clear on his face. "Why?"

"It's burning," said Alycie, pointing at the roasting rabbits. Murtagh's attention quickly was diverted to the meal and he took them off the makeshift spit, busying himself with bowls for broth.

While he worked Alycie thought about his question. Did she really have a death wish? It seemed the only reasonable explanation for her actions. Indeed, why was she putting everything she had in danger for these two boys she had only known for a few weeks? Murtagh handed her a bowl of food and they ate in silence, Alycie still dwelling on her motives.

"So after this you'll be staying in Gil'ead?" asked Murtagh after a while.

"What?" asked Alycie.

"Your destination was Gil'ead, you told us back at the inn in that town."

"Yes, it was then, but now I wish to continue on with you and Eragon," said Alycie.

"So you will go to the Varden as well?" asked Murtagh. Alycie nodded.

"Why do you not wish to go with us?" she asked. "To the Varden?" Murtagh looked at her darkly.

"Because the Varden are as dangerous to me as the Empire," he said. Alycie knew he would not answer anything further.

The rest of the day went by slowly. Murtagh refined his plan, informing Saphira of her part. Alycie made few suggestions, thinking more of what she was to do. After a while, the plan was fully constructed and understood. Alycie stood.

"Could we spar some? I feel restless just sitting here," she said, withdrawing her dagger. Murtagh shook his head.

"We cannot dull the blades without Eragon," he said. Alycie nodded, returning the dagger to her boot. "But find some sturdy sticks and we could spar with them well enough."

"Alright," said Alycie. She turned, walking into the thicker cluster of trees, searching. A fallen branch caught her eye and she picked it up, drawing her dagger and cutting off the thin appendages of it, leaving it solid and smooth. She found another and repeated the gesture, walking back into camp and tossing a stick to Murtagh.

They walked away from the fire, holding their staves at the ready. Then, without warning, Alycie shot out her arm at his leg. He parried, quickly moving to strike her shoulder. She ducked, turning her stick to the side in alarm, managing to barely block it. She stabbed for his chest, but he deflected the blow. As her stick was thrown off to the side, Alycie swung it in a quick arc, moving to hit his right shoulder. His stick met hers in the air.

Alycie smiled and moved her hand, her stick still against his. The end of her makeshift sword slid down the rough surface of her opponent's 'weapon' and hit his unguarded hands. Hard. He relinquished a hand, hissing in pain, and Alycie moved her arms in a loop, twisting her stick around his and, pushing down, levered it out of his hands. It fell to the ground and she pointed her stave at his unguarded chest.

"Dead," she said. Murtagh snorted, bending to picking up his stick once more.

"There are hand guards on real blades," he said. "In a real battle, that trick would not have worked." Alycie ignored him, swinging her stick to the side to hit his ribs as he straightened.

"Dead," she said again, a smile crossing her delighted face. "Dead, dead, dead." She poked his chest. Murtagh grabbed her stick and yanked it out of her hands, putting his own at her shoulder.

"Dead," he said. Alycie reached for her stick, but he tapped her other shoulder. "Dead."

She pounced, knocking the stick out of his hands and plummeting with him to the ground. Early memories of her childhood with Garrick flashed through her mind as this scenario became familiar. He had always won fights like this. Murtagh put his arms on her shoulders, lifting her off of him and rolling over so that he was on top of her. She smacked at his chest, but he caught her arms and pinned them down one at a time.

"Do you give up yet?" he asked. Alycie struggled in vain against his grip. She stopped, relaxing, looking up into his face. Her head lifted off of the ground suddenly and her lips met his, pressing against them in a kiss. Murtagh immediately pulled away, getting to his feet. She sat up, looking at him.

"Would you look at that? I'm free," she said, smiling. Murtagh didn't return the smile. He turned away, walking back to the fireside. Alycie's smile disappeared and she got to her feet, following him. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean..."

He picked up his bow, muttering something about hunting and stalking off into the woods. He did not return for hours. Alycie stared into the fire for a while, brooding on her actions. Then she had walked to Snowfire and retrieved the map of Alagaësia, looking over it. She furrowed her brow, looking at the small scribbled names. She tried to read, tried to understand the runes' meanings.

If she looked at Dras-Leona, then she could take the first rune and match it to the last of Gil'ead. She sounded the words out, matching the sounds with the identical runes in each name. The sound of the 'ee' in Dras-Leona also sounded like the 'ee' in Gil'ead. That was two runes down. She matched them with the other names on the map, sounding them out. The 'ah' in Dras-Leona matched with that in Gil'ead. That was three. Four with the 'l'. There was an 'n' in Urû'baen as well, making five runes recognizable. Alycie squealed with excitement, leaning closer to the parchment. 'U' was twice in the capital's name, meaning it sounded as 'oo' when it was said, since that occurred twice.

She worked on deciphering until dark when she was forced to quickly find more sticks to sustain the dying flame. Finally, Murtagh returned, another catch slung over his shoulder. He looked up darkly, spotting her grin as she threw a large stick onto the fire.

"What are you so happy about?" he asked, sitting and beginning to skin the animals.

"Taught myself to read while you were gone," replied Alycie proudly. Murtagh looked back at her, interested.

"Do tell," he said. Alycie took the map, walking over and sitting next to him, pointing at the names.

"I knew these three places on the map," she said. "And I matched the runes with other names and deciphered them." Murtagh pointed at a small town next to the long string of mountains that represented the Spine.

"What does that say then?" he asked. Alycie looked at it, thinking. After a long while she responded.

"Daret," she said. Murtagh nodded, his gaze returning to his catch.

"Where's Melian then?" he asked. Alycie frowned.

"I don't have all of the letters worked out yet," she said. Murtagh looked at the map.

"You see that small group of trees there?" he asked, nodding at a point on the map above Surda. Alycie nodded. "That says Melian. M-E-L-I-A-N."

"But I thought the...E...makes the 'ee' sound," said Alycie.

"In some words it does," said Murtagh. "In other's it's 'eh'." Alycie thought, then looked at him.

"I'm sorry for kissing you earlier," she said. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just knew it would get you off of me and...well...it was rash...and...I..." She trailed off. Murtagh didn't look up, but Alycie got the feeling that he wasn't holding it against her. She stood and walked to the other side of the fire once more, looking at Saphira.

_'No doubt you'll be telling Eragon everything we do...'_ she thought. Saphira snorted and Alycie could have sworn she saw her head nod twice. She hoped she hadn't seen that.

They sat in silence for another hour, avoiding each other's eyes and chewing on the rabbits Murtagh had caught. Finally, out of the blue, he spoke.

"You say you riddle?"

"Aye," said Alycie, looking up.

"Go on then, let's hear one," he said. Alycie frowned.

"Why?"

"I bet I can answer it," he said. Alycie gave him a sarcastic look.

"You're smart, but you're not that smart," she said. Murtagh brushed his hair back from his forehead, smiling.

"Now I'm interested. Go on, tell this riddle I can't solve," he said.

"_What is greater than God, more evil than the Devil, the poor have it, the rich need it, and if you eat it you die?_" asked Alycie. Murtagh thought. Minutes passed.

"I haven't a clue," he said. "Poison?"

"Nothing," said Alycie. Dawning comprehension crossed Murtagh's face.

"Of course. Tell another one. I wish to try once more."

"_What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?_"

"I know this one. A river," said Murtagh. Alycie nodded. "Come, another."

"_When young, I am sweet in the sun, when middle-aged, I make you gay, when old, I am valued more than ever._"

"Wine," said Murtagh.

They riddled late into the night, both silently apprehensive of what would take place the next night. But this night was for reparations against faults unto each other. Their friendship was restored once more.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	16. The Rescue and the Shade

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Alright, this is like the longest chapter to come so far, so be very very happy.**

** HOLY CRAP 80 REVIEWS! MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME MUCH!!!  
**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

The sun was nearly midway through the sky when Alycie awoke the next morning. Murtagh had already hunted and returned. The fire was searing the prey already as she sat up, looking around.

"It's about time," said Murtagh from his place by the fire. "You were tired."

"Today's the day..." said Alycie, letting her breath out in a sigh. Murtagh nodded.

Alycie stood, walking to Cadoc and taking her dress out of the saddlebags. She walked to the fire, taking out her dagger and spreading the worn dress on her knee, cutting away the frayed hem. She cut the dress short so it would fall to her knees, and then carved a small slit out of the neckline, making the appearance more provocative. Taking a small stick from the fire, running the little flame along the loose threads along the newly cut hem, burning them away.

"You don't have to do this," said Murtagh. "I could get by another way."

"No. I can do this," said Alycie. Murtagh looked at her in disapproval.

"Take your dagger," he advised.

"Of course," said Alycie.

"We'll go at night," said Murtagh. "I'll disguise myself and go in after you. If anything happens, run out of the city as fast as you can." Alycie nodded. After the meal, she stood, taking the dress.

"I'd better change then..." she said. Murtagh put down his bowl.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked.

"No, I'll be quick," responded Alycie, turning and walking to the edge of the clearing.

She unfastened her tunic, pulling it off and tugging the dress on. It fit a little looser than it once had, but it accomplished the desired effect. She slipped out of the pants underneath the skirt. Folding them up, she packed the clothes into Cadoc's saddlebags, slipping the dagger out of her shoe and slipping it into the back of her dress. She turned to find Murtagh staring at her.

"What?" she asked, folding her arms self-consciously.

"I...just noticed...on your back," he said, a strange pained edge to his voice. Alycie looked down.

"Oh."

"Where did you get them?" asked Murtagh.

"Whips," said Alycie. He had seen the many scars that striped her back. The signature of slavery. "For my mistakes." Murtagh didn't press further.

Soon he walked to Tornac, withdrawing a beard, and cloak. He hunched himself over like an old beggar man, dirtying his face beyond recognition. He took the two sparring sticks and lashed them together as a crutch. He walked back to the fire.

"Well, do I look like an old beggar man?" he asked. Alycie nodded, grinning.

"It will suffice," she said, standing. She pulled one of her sleeves down below her shoulder at the neckline and struck a seductive pose. "Do I look like a seductive flirtatious whore?" Murtagh laughed.

"You could never," he said. "But it will do." Alycie smirked.

"Let us go then," she said. "Dusk will be here soon, and we are traveling on foot."

"Saphira, wait for Eragon's command. I'll tell him to contact you when I find him," said Murtagh. Saphira inclined her head in understanding.

They rode Tornac the first mile out, and then Murtagh coaxed him into returning to the wooded area, still visible in the distance. He waited while Alycie walked ahead onto the road. She had taken a cloak to shield herself from view until it was necessary. Her dagger was cold against her spine as she walked along. Dusk had fully fallen when she reached Gil'ead. Looking back as she entered the city, she spotted the hunched figure of Murtagh two hundred yards behind her.

She walked quickly through the streets, finding the prison in the center. There she waited at a distance, eyeing the two guards. One was young, obviously new to the force, and the other seemed as if he had served for a while, standing perfectly straight and still. She watched the street for a few more minutes, then, as she spotted the disguised Murtagh turn a corner, she threw her cloak aside, taking a deep breath, and walked up to them.

"Please, sirs, coul' one o' you fine gen'lemen go an' stop the figh' in _The Figh'in' Cork_? My li'l brotha' is sure to ge' 'imself hurt an' they won' listen to me!" she said in a pleading voice. The older guard looked to the younger one, giving him the order. He ran off down the street. Alycie watched him go, and then turned to the remaining guard, turning on her seductive act.

"'Ello there luv," she said, pulling a sleeve to reveal her shoulder and looking at him flirtatiously. "Wot's a big, strong man like you doin' alone this late in the eve?" The guard looked down at her, for he was a good foot or two taller. His brown eyes regarded her dully in his unshaven, frowning face.

"On duty, Miss. Can't let nobody pass," he said. Alycie drew in close to him, pressing her back against his chest and sliding with a sigh.

"'S so cold ou'," she said, her hands rubbing her exposed arms. "You cold? We coul' warm each other up a bit..."

"There's an inn down that way if you're cold. They have a nice fire running constantly," said the guard, but Alycie saw him gulp nervously. She stuck out her lower lip.

"So far away, though," she said, turning to face him, her cleavage rising and falling with her breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Murtagh growing near. She placed her hands on the guard's stomach, sliding them up over his chest to his neck, wrapping around and standing on her tiptoes to reach his face with hers. "Why don' we jus' go someplace a li'l more..._private_?" she asked in a whisper. The guard began to protest, but Alycie held a finger to his lips, turning her hand and curling the finger, beckoning him to follow. She drew her hand back, surprised to see that his face followed. She lead him around the corner of the prison, pushing him up against the wall and forcing her lips onto his. His arms wrapped around her, holding her to him. She opened an eye, seeing Murtagh hobble towards the entrance to the building. He was in. She unfastened one of her arms from around his neck, reaching back to the back of her dress and reaching inside, drawing out her dagger. The guard suddenly pulled away just as she had it out completely, removing his helmet as he looked at the ground in shame.

"What am I doing? Miss, I'm sorry, I am a happily married man and I love my wife very much. I've known her for over eight years and even though it was an arranged marriage, I'm happy, and I wouldn't betray her for the world," he babbled quickly. Alycie's eyes roved over the face of the young man, taking in the small scar that was traceable along his brow.

"Jurdan?" she asked, taking a step back in amazement. The guard narrowed his eyes.

"How do you know me?" he asked. Alycie pointed at his scar.

"You got that when you knocked over a table and a mug broke and cut you," she said. "I thought I'd never see you again after that blonde woman took you to be betrothed to her daughter." The guard squinted at her.

"Alycie?" he asked. "No, not Garrick's little sister..." Alycie nodded.

"It's me," she said. Jurdan smiled widely, and then drew Alycie into a strong hug.

"Alycie! What are you doing here? In...in _that_..." His smile faded and he began wiping his mouth. "Uch! I never shoulda fallen for that! When Urelia sees me she'll...but what are you doing? You must be freezing." Alycie pressed her hand over his mouth, looking around. She looked him in the eye.

"Don't say my name," she said quietly. "I'm trying to keep a low profile. Going on a mission, you see." Jurdan furrowed his brow.

"I can't help you if you're against the Empire," he said. "That was the only road I could take. I'm in the king's army now. It got me out of slavery and into a nice job."

"I don't expect you to help me," said Alycie. "I expect you...to be lenient. Let me into the prison, and do not raise the alarm. That's all I ask." Jurdan thought.

"Young Movel won't be back for a while. He's horrible with directions. Very well, I'll let you in, but you better not get caught or it's my head they're lobbing off." Alycie hugged him in gratitude.

"Thank you, Jurdan," she said.

"Go quickly now," he said, putting his helmet back on and straightening once more. Alycie darted around the corner quickly, slipping soundlessly into the building as Jurdan resumed his post.

Alycie crept along the torch lit stone corridors of the Gil'ead jail. She wasn't only looking for Eragon. Or Murtagh. There was another on her mind, whose memory was refreshed by the discovery of Jurdan outside. She turned a corner, finding a hallway full of locked wooden cell doors. She looked into each one, peeking between the crisscrossed sturdy wooden bars to study the captive within before moving on to the next. After fifty doors, she was becoming frantic. The soldiers could discover her at any moment. She needed to search faster.

"Garrick?" she hissed as she passed the doors. "Garrick, are you there?" A movement five doors ahead made her stop sharply, looking around in alarm. Then she saw what had caused the movement. Three fingers were sticking out of the small barred cell door window. She walked to the door, looking inside.

"Alycie," whispered the man at the door.

"Garrick, is that you?" she asked.

"Alycie, they captured me, I'm sorry I didn't meet you," said Garrick. Alycie barely recognized him. His face had sprouted a short beard from his time in captivity and his arms and legs were shrunken from lack of food. Alycie held his fingers tightly, happiness and sadness tearing at her.

"I'll free you," she said, holding up the dagger and beginning to work it into the lock in an attempt to break it.

"No! No, Alycie don't. I am too weak to escape! They will be deporting me soon to Urû'baen where I am to serve in the king's army. I will find a way out on my own. Do not put yourself in danger."

"I can't leave you," said Alycie, pushing on the dagger with all her might.

"Alycie, no! Leave!" exclaimed her brother.

"What have we here?" came a cold, drawling voice from down the hall. Alycie's blood seemed to freeze in her veins as she turned her head to look at the owner of the voice. He was tall and lithe, with long, blood red hair and pale skin. Evil seemed to emanate from his very skin. His body dissipated, reassembling two feet from Alycie in a wisp of smoke. She gasped. His eyes were the most frightening shade of deep, dark red. A Shade!

"Run!" Garrick shouted at his stupefied sister. She began scrambling to her feet, her eyes unable to break away from the cold, red ones of the Shade.

"A fruitless attempt," said the monster of a being, holding out a hand. Alycie was suddenly lifted to her feet by an invisible force. She watched as the Shade surveyed her. "So, what is this? An attempted rescue of a lover? Or is it family?"

"Please, I beg of you, don't hurt her," said Garrick from his cell. The Shade ignored him.

"So, which is it? Lovers or family?" Alycie didn't answer. "I suppose I'll have to just take a look-see..."

She let out a cry as a mind-numbing pain engulfed her skull. It felt as if a blade were drilling it's way through. Visions of memories began flashing through her conscious mind, some of which she didn't even recall. The Shade was searching her mind for his answers. Visions of a young Garrick flashed before her, then one of every year during their enslavement. Then more recent memories began to appear. Flashes of the Ra'zac, her delirium, and the tomb of Brom. Eragon appeared, riding Saphira, standing next to the diamond tomb, being captured by the Urgals, sparring with Murtagh. Murtagh! Murtagh's frustration, Murtagh sparring, Murtagh's face as she closed in to kiss him--

"NO! STOP!" Alycie cried. The Shade withdrew from her mind, interest evident on his facial features.

"Well...well well well...this _is_ a predicament for you, isn't it?" he said in his dangerous voice. Alycie closed her eyes tightly, trying to block the lingering pain. A small group of soldiers entered the hallway, having heard Alycie's cry.

"Lord Durza, who is--" started one.

"Take this girl out of here," said the Shade, tossing her to the soldier. "We have no need to imprison her. She is weak and insignificant." But his eyes told another story. They were staring at her, plotting as a smirk crossed his face. Alycie didn't see any more, however, for she was dragged out of the hallway, helpless to resist.

Then, suddenly, they stopped. Alycie was vaguely aware of the fearful expressions upon her captors' faces. Then one let out a battle cry.

"CHARGE!" he yelled. Alycie was dropped as the soldiers drew their blades as one, rushing into the hall. The yells of a fight echoed along the stone walls as Alycie saw a hooded figure stop over her, dropping a piece of wood to the side and looking at her. He drew a yew bow from within his cloak, knocking an arrow and pulling the string back. He let it fly.

"Thrysta!" came a cry from within the hallway. A thud followed and the hooded figure let fly another arrow, yielding a scream from the hall. The hooded figure knocked another arrow. "Don't kill him!"

Alycie recognized the voice as Eragon's. Her mind was clearer as she sat up, getting to her feet. Her eyes settled upon the wood the hooded figure had dropped and she recognized it as the makeshift crutch Murtagh had constructed back at the camp. She turned, taking a step to return to Garrick's cell, but the hooded figure, Murtagh, clutched her arm, holding her still. She struggled briefly, muttering her brother's name, but Marek sent her a serious look and she stopped, turning her attention to Eragon in the hall.

"The elf's in the last cell to the left! I don't know about your sword, but it's probably in the guardroom upstairs. All the weapons are there," said the remaining soldier. Eragon muttered a word and he collapsed to the floor.

"Did you kill him?" asked Murtagh. Eragon looked at him, narrowing his eyes.

"Murtagh! Is that you?" he said finally.

"Yes." He lifted his beard briefly. "I don't want my face seen. Did you kill him?"

"No, he's only asleep. Alycie...what are you wearing?"

"There's no time to explain," said Murtagh. "We have to get up to the next floor before anyone finds us. There'll be an escape route for us in a few minutes. We don't want to miss it."

"Didn't you hear what I said? There's an elf in the prison. I saw her! We have to rescue her. I need your help," said Eragon.

"Mad..." muttered Alycie. Murtagh growled, running down the hall to the door the soldier had indicated.

"An elf...this is a mistake. We should flee while we have the chance." He removed a ring of keys from his cloak. "I took it from one of the guards." Eragon held out his hand for the ring and Murtagh handed them to him with a shrug.

The Rider tried the keys until he found the right one, turning it. Alycie walked over to them, her mind still feeling sickly open. The pain from the probe still throbbed through her mind every few seconds. It must have shown in her face, because Murtagh cast her a worried glance. She shook her head and assumed a more confident composure.

The door swung open, revealing a stunningly beautiful elf standing there. She lifted her head high, her dark green eyes lifting to Eragon's. She collapsed suddenly, and Eragon rushed forward to catch her. Her long river of midnight hair covered her face as Eragon lifted her more upright.

"She's beautiful," breathed Murtagh as his eyes landed on her. Alycie had to admit he was right, though it wasn't amazement that burned in her blood at the sight of the elf.

"But hurt," Eragon said in response to Murtagh.

"We can tend to her later. Are you strong enough to carry her?" Eragon shook his head. "Then I'll do it." Murtagh lifted the elf onto his shoulders, yelling, "Now, upstairs!" They rushed to a stone staircase at the end of the hall, climbing it quickly.

"How are we going to get out without being noticed?" asked Eragon.

"We're not," said Murtagh. They arrived in the soldiers' banquet room and Murtagh laid the elf on a table. "Can you talk to Saphira for me?" Murtagh asked Eragon.

"Yes."

"Tell her to wait another five minutes."

"Shh...listen," said Alycie. Soldiers could be seen passing the entrance to the staircase that lead to the banquet room.

"Whatever you're planning to do, I don't think we have much time," said Eragon.

"Just tell her, and stay out of sight," hissed Murtagh, running out of the room. Alycie gave Eragon a last look and followed him. They edged along the stone hall, sticking to the shadows. Murtagh peeked into a doorway before running inside. Alycie followed.

They seemed to be in a weapons chamber. Bows of all sorts hung upon the walls, arrows filled barrels, and swords of various craftsmen lay upon the tables. Murtagh quickly found Zar'roc, handing it to Alycie as if it burnt his hand to touch it. Then he examined the bows upon the wall.

"This looks like elf craft," he said, pulling down a particularly elegant bow. He did the same with a curved sword.

"Murtagh, we can't wait long for Saphira," said Alycie. "A Shade is here." Murtagh looked at her.

"A Shade? We have to tell Eragon. If there's a Shade here, Saphira needs to come immediately," he said. Then he paused. "How do you know?"

"Spotted him in the hallway," lied Alycie, "on my way to find you."

"Come." Murtagh swept out of the weapons chamber once more. Alycie looked around at the many blades wistfully before following him.

When they arrived back in the banquet room, they found Eragon sitting under a table, a mug of beer in one hand and a hunk of bread in the other. Murtagh quickly shouted the predicament to him and asked him to relay the message to Saphira.

"Let's just hope the Shade doesn't find us," he said.

"I'm afraid it's far too late for that," came a cold chuckle.

The threesome whirled around to find the Shade, Durza, standing on the other side of the room. In his hand was a long, thin blade with a visible scratch upon it. Durza reached up, unclasping his cloak, and let it fall to the floor.

"So, my young _Rider_, do you wish to test yourself against me? I shouldn't have trusted the captain when he said you ate all your food. I will not make that mistake again."

"I'll take care of him," muttered Murtagh, reaching for his blade.

"No. He wants me alive, not you. I can stall him for a short while, but then you'd better have a way out for us," said Eragon quietly. Alycie was staring at Durza. He had dragged her away from her brother, who was going to join the king's army, and whom she might never see again. He had invaded her mind, flipping through her secrets and memories like a book, carelessly tossing it away once finished. And now he was going to fight, and probably kill, Eragon. Something snapped. Alycie shot out a hand and grabbed the hilt of Murtagh's sword, drawing it in a flash. She charged at Durza.

"NO!" shouted Murtagh. She didn't hear him. Her blade met the Shade's with a force that reverberated down her arm painfully. Durza laughed.

"So _you_ came to challenge me. You must have a death wish."

"So I hear," replied Alycie coldly, her heart thumping as if it would beat out of her chest. Durza moved, whipping his sword around like a snake, aiming for her head. She blocked the blow just in time, feeling the force take it's toll once more. Immediately she regretted her rash decision, as she so often had in past.

The Shade didn't stop; swinging the blade so fast that it was all Alycie could do to keep up. Panic began to show in her movements as she realized the Shade was merely playing with her. He was going to amuse himself, like a cat toying with a mouse, and then he would kill her swiftly and mercilessly. That is unless he preferred to drag it out long and painful.

He drove her back into a table and twisted Murtagh's sword from her grip. She stared at him in fright, and then fell to the floor, pushing herself underneath the table in an attempt to escape. Above her, she heard, rather than saw, Eragon swing Zar'roc at the Shade, resuming her fight. She grabbed Murtagh's fallen sword and crawled out from under the table, moving aside in time to avoid a falling stone as it fell from the ceiling. Saphira had arrived. Alycie ran to Murtagh, who grabbed his sword from her, sheathing it, and took hold of her shoulders, shaking her roughly.

"What were you THINKING!?" he shouted at her over the screeching noises of Saphira's talons against the roof. "You could have been killed! Taking on a Shade when you can barely fight an eighteen-year-old boy! You must be mad!" He pulled her sharply as another stone fell where she had stood. He drew her into an embrace, then held her with one arm as he drew his bow. Eragon and Durza were moving towards them now. Eragon's strength was visibly failing. The Shade disarmed him suddenly, sending him to his knees.

"A powerful piece you may be in the game that is being played, but I'm disappointed that this is your best. If the other Riders were this weak, they must have controlled the Empire only through sheer numbers," spat Durza.

"No, you forget something," said Eragon, looking up at him.

"And what might that be?" asked Durza contemptuously.

"The dragons!" cried Eragon just as the ceiling was ripped away. He scrambled out of the Shade's reach and Murtagh let an arrow fly into the creature's shoulder.

"You'll have to do better than that if you want to stop me," he said, breaking the arrow easily. Murtagh's next arrow imbedded itself between the Shade's eyes. He let out a roar of rage, dissipating into wisps of smoke, leaving only clothes where he had stood.

"You killed him," exclaimed Eragon.

"I'm not sure," said Murtagh.

Men's shouts echoed through the room suddenly and an armed crowd ran into the room, brandishing spears and nets with intimidating cries. The threesome was forced up against the stone wall, dragging the elf along with them, as the soldiers formed a ring around them, blocking their escape. Saphira's head appeared where the ceiling had been minutes before and she let out a menacing roar. Her talons gripped the remaining ceiling and she tore off another portion angrily. Three soldiers dropped their weapons and ran out of the room as fast as they could. The main support beam of the ceiling cracked suddenly, and the roof fell in, showering the remaining soldiers with shingles. They covered their heads, yelling as they turned and followed the wiser three out of the banquet room. Eragon ran forward and threw his arms around the dragon as Alycie and Murtagh pulled the elf to her. They secured the elf in the saddle and climbed on. Alycie held tightly to Murtagh, for Saphira was not made for many riders, and the saddle did not extend to the sharp spikes that lay behind her.

"Can she carry us all?" she asked Eragon.

"She can try," replied the Rider. "Saphira, you have to take off. Now!"

The fearsome dragon unfurled her wings, leaping out of the roofless hall and propelling herself off of the building. She dropped sharply at first, but steadily began to gain altitude. Alycie looked behind them in time to see a volley of arrows launch in their direction.

"Watch out! Archers!" she called. Saphira roared as they struck the membrane of her wings, veering left to avoid any more. Eragon leaned onto Saphira's neck, stroking her comfortingly.

"We need to land soon. She can't go on much longer with all of us," he said.

"Tell her to try and get to the clearing," said Murtagh.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	17. The Healing and the Revelations

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**I believe I am barely making it through writer's block right now, so please try to enjoy!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

They managed to make it to the clearing, but Saphira's strength was near spent. She shook as her many riders dismounted quickly. Murtagh ran to the horses, readying them for a night of hard riding. Alycie followed him, quickly taking her pants from Cadoc's saddlebags and pulling them on under her skirt, turning away as she removed the dress so she could get the tunic on.

"You've made a lot of mistakes," said Murtagh as Alycie turned, stuffing the dress into the bags. "Your scars signify them."

"Yes, and I still make many mistakes, as you've noticed," she replied. "I don't know why I fought Durza. I knew I couldn't win, but I still ran in to fight him...like an Urgal..."

"Durza?" asked Murtagh.

"That's the Shade's name," said Alycie, shrugging.

"I know it is, but how did you--"

"Murtagh! I need you to hold Saphira down while I get this arrow!" shouted Eragon. Murtagh turned, running over to him. Alycie finished securing the horses' saddles and turned to watch her companions. Saphira had a sapling in her mouth to receive the stress of her pain. "Hold on," said Eragon to Murtagh in warning. He pulled the shaft out in a flash. Saphira whimpered and jerked her wing suddenly, sending Murtagh falling to the ground.

"She caught me by surprise," said Murtagh, rubbing his jaw. He glanced at Alycie, who was doubled over with laughter, and got to his feet, rolling his eyes at her.

"She didn't mean to hit you," said Eragon, moving to Saphira. They started a mental conversation and Murtagh walked back to the horses.

"I'm hilarious am I?" he asked the chuckling Alycie.

"Sorry," she managed to say. "It's just...you flying through the air..." She gave in to a fresh wave of giggles. Murtagh mounted Tornac, shaking his head. Alycie climbed into Cadoc's saddle as well and Saphira took off. Not a minute later, they were galloping through the dark plain, the thin line of distant, torch-bearing trackers spurring them on.

Hours passed. Alycie nearly fell asleep while riding several times, only to awaken as Murtagh noticed her turning off course and calling her name. The sun rose, peeking shyly over the edge of the horizon and flooding the land with a pale light. Finally, they agreed to stop and sleep. Saphira landed ahead and they met her. She had landed next to a stream at the base of a cliff. A good choice for a camp.

Murtagh and Eragon removed the elf from Saphira's saddle, laying her out on the ground. Then, all three companions sat down by the cliff, leaning against it in absolute exhaustion. Alycie soon toppled over, sleep overtaking her mind. She seemed in a sort of half-sleep, however. Fragments of her companions' conversation reached her ears, but they were mottled and made no sense to her. She shot awake as Murtagh swore loudly.

"Wha?" she exclaimed, and then she saw the elf. Eragon had undone the back of her leather shirt, revealing a bloody, bruised, scabbed mess. Whip scars lined across her back in a great multitude, intersecting burns from a hot branding iron. Scrapes and scabs littered her skin, the spaces in between colored blue and purple from bruises.

"Can you heal this?" asked Murtagh.

"I...I don't know. There's so much," said Eragon. He looked at Saphira, and then pulled off his gloves. "This is going to take some time. Can you get me food? Also, boil rags for bandages; I can't heal all her wounds."

"We can't make a fire without being seen. You'll have to use unwashed cloths, and the food will be cold," objected Murtagh.

Eragon sighed, but accepted, placing his hand on the elf's back and saying two words in the ancient language. Alycie watched in amazement as the burn he had held his hand over disappeared, healing as though it had never existed.

"Alycie," said Murtagh, "come and help me." She walked over to him as he removed a loaf of bread wrapped in cloth out of Tornac's pack. "Get that dress you have. We'll need it for bandages." She retrieved it, sitting on the ground and beginning to tear it into strips.

They watched and waited as Eragon worked tirelessly to heal the elf. At one point, Alycie brought him the bread as he healed a particularly nasty cut on the elf's waist. She caught his ears turning red and raised an eyebrow.

"Ridiculous..." she muttered, shaking her head and walking back to where Murtagh sat. Eragon glared after her, though his ears reddened all the more. She sat down next to Murtagh, throwing a handful of leaves in the fire, watching it roar louder before returning to it's gentle crackling.

"I never thanked you for distracting the guards so I could get into the castle," said Murtagh suddenly.

"It was for the greater good," said Alycie. Murtagh crossed his arms, looking at her.

"You didn't do...anything...too far..." he started awkwardly, faltering. Alycie shook her head vigorously. "What happened?"

"I lured him off to kiss him while you snuck by, and I realized I knew him," she said. "He was my brother's best mate when they were children. I hadn't seen him in years." She laughed. "He was very upset when he found it was me he'd been seduced by."

"That...that really was a clever idea...acting as a...concubine..." said Murtagh hesitantly. "It was brave on your part as well. Again, reckless, but sometimes recklessness is a good plan on its own." Alycie regarded him steadily, working out what he was saying.

"Are you trying to thank me in so many words?" she asked. Murtagh smiled, letting his breath out in a chuckle.

"You could say that, yes," he said. Alycie smiled at him, happiness filling her.

"I have another riddle for you," she said. He looked at her expectantly. "_Give me food, and I will live; give me water, and I will die. What am I?_"

"Fire," he said.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

The next day passed without much incident. Eragon, who had remained awake the entire night healing the elf, seemed constantly on edge, snapping at anyone who spoke to him. They had had to avoid every town in their path, taking mile-wide detours to avoid the soldiers who were tracking them with well-attuned hunting dogs.

They stopped when darkness fell, discussing their predicament over a small dinner. Alycie sat off to the side, watching the elf in silence. Indeed she was stunningly beautiful. Eragon's healing had made her look healthier, yet still she did not wake. It had been days since her rescue. Alycie found herself wondering who this elf was and how she had come into the clutches of the Empire. Her thoughts were interrupted by a call from Eragon. She walked over to the fire where they sat, sitting cross-legged on the ground.

"Have you chosen a direction?" she asked.

"We plan to cross the edge of the Hadarac," said Eragon. Alycie looked confused.

"A desert?"

"It is the safest path to the Varden," said Eragon. "Are you against it?"

"Not as long as it doesn't kill us," said the girl, shaking her head.

"If we reach the other side of the Hadarac safely where will we go?" asked Murtagh slowly. "Those lands are well outside of the Empire. There will be few cities, if any. And then there is the desert itself. What do you know of it?"

"Only that it's hot, dry, and full of sand," said Eragon.

"That about sums it up," said Murtagh. "It's filled with poisonous and inedible plants, venomous snakes, scorpions, and a blistering sun. You saw the great plain on our way to Gil'ead?"

"Yes, and once before," said Eragon.

"Then you are familiar with its immense range. It fills the heart of the Empire. Now imagine something two or three times its size, and you'll understand the vastness of the Hadarac Desert. That is what you're proposing to cross." Alycie's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Impossible!" she exclaimed. "Just how big is Alagaësia!?"

"Larger than you can comprehend," said Murtagh.

"No wonder the Empire ends at the desert. Everything on the other side is too far away for Galbatorix to control," said Eragon, looking at the map. Murtagh crawled over, pointing at the right side.

"All the land beyond the desert, which is blank on this map, was under one rule when the Riders lived. If the king were to raise up new Riders under his command, it would allow him to expand the Empire to an unprecedented size. But that wasn't the point I was trying to make. The Hadarac Desert is so huge and contains so many dangers; the chances are slim that we can cross it unscathed. It is a desperate path to take."

"We _are_ desperate," said Eragon. "If we rode through the belly of the desert, it would take well over a month, perhaps even two to cross it." Alycie examined the parchment, pointing at the edge of the blank space.

"What about there? Cross that river there below that town and cut through that curve of the desert to the mountains?" she suggested. Murtagh looked at it.

"That would take us as long as the journey to Gil'ead was!" he exclaimed. "That was nearly a month!" Eragon shook his head.

"She has a good idea. Our ride to Gil'ead was slow on account of my injuries. If we press ourselves, it'll take only a fraction of that time to reach the Beor Mountains," he said.

"Enough. You've made your point," said Murtagh. "Before I consent, however, something must be solved. As I'm sure you noticed, I bought supplies for us and the horses while I was in Gil'ead." Alycie looked at him.

"When did you do that?" she asked.

"I stopped while we were searching for the pub and bought some. You were distressed at the time," he said. "But that is not the point. How can we get enough water in the desert? The roving tribes who live in the Hadarac usually disguise their wells and oases so no one can steal their water. And carrying enough for more than a day is impractical. Just think about how much Saphira drinks! She and the horses consume more water at one time than we do in a week. Unless you can make it rain whenever we need, I don't see how we can go in that direction." Alycie's heart sank.

"We'll have to find another route then I suppose," she said.

"No. I have an idea. Let me experiment, then I'll give you an answer," said Eragon suddenly. He turned, walking out of the camp, Saphira in tow.

"What's he planning?" Murtagh asked no one in particular. Alycie's eyes followed the Rider until he disappeared into the foliage.

"Maybe he's found something that will help," she said, shrugging. They sat in silence for a while, tending to the fire or watching the elf. Then Murtagh spoke.

"You say you have a brother?" he asked.

"Yes," said Alycie. She grinned at him. "You actually remind me of him sometimes."

"Do I? How so?"

"You do the same things. You tease me for my rashness and my inability to fight," said Alycie. Murtagh smirked as the mood hanging over the camp lightened. Alycie rolled her eyes at him, standing. "I'm going to check on the elf again," she said.

As she took a step, however, Murtagh stuck out his leg, tripping her. She fell to the ground as he laughed. Indignant, Alycie launched herself back at him. He fell back as she bowled him over, smacking him lightly. He continued to laugh at her weak strikes, easily catching her wrists and rolling over, pinning her to the ground. Alycie stifled a small laugh at the familiarity of the scene as they looked at each other, panting.

Then, all in one motion, Murtagh's smile faded, his eyes closed, and his face lowered, his lips pressing to hers in a kiss. Alarm shocked through Alycie's mind, but a sense of calm belonging extinguished it immediately as her eyelids closed as well. She kissed him back. The world seemed silent, passing along at great speed as the two kissing beings remained locked against each other's lips as if frozen in time.

Then, after what seemed an age, sound broke in upon them as Murtagh pulled away, opening his eyes. Both he and Alycie, who opened her eyes as well, were breathing hard. They looked back at one another.

"I'll bet your brother never did _that_," said Murtagh. Alycie laughed.

"No..." she said. Her eyes flicked from one of his stormy gray eyes to the other, her smile relaxing. "Don't stop."

Murtagh didn't need telling twice. His eyes closed once again as his face returned to hers, slower this time. The same, blissful feeling spread through Alycie's body, immobilizing her under Murtagh. His arms moved away from her pinned arms, wrapping around her waist, and she rolled onto her side, her hands sliding along his arms to his shoulders in a caress. They remained locked in this position for several minutes.

The sound of snapping twigs caused Alycie's and Murtagh's eyes to shoot open and they pulled away from each other quickly, sitting up as Eragon entered the clearing. Murtagh cleared his throat as Alycie ran a hand over her hair nervously.

"Er...well? Is the desert open to us?" he asked.

"It is," said Eragon, walking to his blankets and dropping, rolling so that only his back was visible to them. Murtagh and Alycie watched him for a moment, and then turned back to one another. Murtagh stood, walking to his bedroll and lying down. Alycie followed him, snuggling up against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. Their lips met once more.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**How's that for romance? REVIEW!**


	18. The Prisoner and the Soldier

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Hey, this is a short Garrick POV chapter. It's my way of saying, "Hey, I'm not done yet, so here's a filler!" Enjoy y'all!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Garrick paced his cell, staring at the ground. He was shaking his head, muttering inaudible words to himself. The scene was repeating itself over and over in his head. Painful...fearful...

The tortured look on his sister's face as Durza had probed her mind seemed permanently visible before his eyes. Her cry echoed in his ears just as loudly for the many hours that followed the event. Questions were swarming through his mind.

_Had she escaped the soldiers? How had she gotten in? Why had she come to Gil'ead? How had she escaped from Dras-Leona?_

She had looked different to Garrick in the few moments he beheld her. Her long, soft, lovely hair had been hacked away at the shoulders and her sweet, innocent face was streaked with dirt. She had been wearing, much to his surprise, a terribly suggestive dress. He hoped she had not gotten into trouble...or surrendered herself to a life of ill repute.

As the guards had dragged her away, he had held his eye to the door, avidly watching in anger. The Shade had walked off smiling about something, but after he'd gone the soldiers had stopped right around the corner. Alycie's feet had been visible still, lying motionless on the stone floor of the prison. A cloaked man with a crutch he did not seem to need had rushed over, a bow in his hands. Shouting had echoed down the halls and then his sister vanished completely.

The shouting though...had the soldiers been attacked? A charge had definitely been ordered. Then the cries of several of them had echoed down to Garrick's cell, reaching his ears. His sister's voice had not been among those he heard. He ran a grimy hand through his grown-out hair, casting his eyes to the barred window that displayed the hallway. A group of soldiers suddenly appeared by it, bending to insert a key into the lock. Garrick's face became emotionless as his fists relaxed in resignation. They had come for him. He was to go to Urû'baen to be condemned to a lifetime of service in the king's army.

"Alright, you. Come on ou' o' there," said the Captain, opening the door. Garrick walked out without resisting. It wouldn't be so bad being in the army. He would be out of slavery at least. And he would travel; that was something.

Two soldiers tied his hands, leading him along. They needn't have done so. It was hardly necessary with this pointless man. Well, now he did have a point in his life. Serve the king. Garrick didn't know enough about politics to have any grudge against the Empire, so he considered himself lucky. If he hadn't been the proper age for recruitment, it would have been to the noose.

He blinked in the bright sunlight as the soldiers pulled him along. One of the guards guarding the entrance bristled as he passed. He glanced backwards at him briefly, but soon turned forward once more, noticing nothing out of the ordinary.

The soldiers loaded him into a wooden wagon covered with a cage of interlocking bars. He climbed up without a fight, sitting down as they locked the door tightly, climbing onto the seat on the front of the wagon and taking the horses' reins. The wooden contraption began to move, bumping along over the uneven street ridden with stones. He looked out at the passing street and was surprised to see the guard who had been posted outside of the prison walking after the wagon at a swift pace.

"Garrick!" he hissed, surprising Garrick even more. He crawled to the back of the wagon, grasping the wooden bars and squinting at the soldier.

"Do I know you?" he asked. Dawning comprehension seemed to be settling over the pursuing guard.

"Oh...so she was trying to rescue you...oh...but then she was distracting me for...but then that means she's with...and they..."

"Oi! I asked how you know me!" snapped Garrick. The soldier returned to himself, removing his helmet quickly.

"Garrick, it's me! Jurdan!" he said. Garrick's eyes widened.

"What in Helgrind are you doing here!?" he asked in amazement, laughing.

"Nevermind that! Look, I saw Alycie earlier. She distracted me so she could get one of her companions into the prison, I understand now, and she was kissing me, and then we realized we were each other--"

"Jurdan...wait...slow down," said Garrick, blinking in confusion. "You saw Alycie...and she distracted you to...you kissed my sister? Oh, mate, I'll sock you one so hard..."

"There's no _time_ for that, Garrick," hissed Jurdan. They were nearing the outer limits of Gil'ead. "Listen to me. She went in to rescue you. Was she captured?"

"Yes," said Garrick.

"Well she escaped on a big blue dragon," said Jurdan. Garrick laughed disbelievingly.

"You're mad," he said.

"No, I swear on my dear Urelia. She flew out of the bloody prison with a Dragon Rider, an elf, and another on the back of a big, blue, flappin', flyin' dragon!" insisted Jurdan, flapping his arms wildly. Garrick didn't know whether to be relieved or distressed.

"So now she's on the run from the entire Empire?" he asked. Jurdan nodded.

"There are posters out. Lord Durza says 'ee wants 'er for the king. I don' know the reasonin' be'ind it, but if Alycie knows what's good for 'er, she'll 'ide somewhere an' not ever come out. The other one they're with is on the run too. He's Murtagh, the son of Morzan." The name rang a bell.

"Morzan?" asked Garrick. "I've heard of him before..."

"He's the bloody first and last of the Foresworn, Garrick, I should think you've 'eard of 'im before!" exclaimed Jurdan. "Jus' cause o' tha', Galbatorix'll be able ter spy 'em. Yer sister is in grave danger. Tha' Murtagh is a target for capture wherever he is, whether in the Empire or with the Varden. The Rider's a target too. There's a message bein' sent ahead an' a pack o' soldiers bein' organized to follow them. I jus' 'ad to tell you before you left! I 'eard you were being deported an' thought it best you knew. Bu' if your sister's goin' anywhere, it's to the Varden." Garrick's eyes widened and he nodded. "I can' follow you no longer. Good luck!"

"Thank you, mate! I will repay you someday," said Garrick as the small caravan rode out of Gil'ead, beginning the long trek to the capital.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	19. The Mistake and the Test

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**I AM FINALLY OVER WRITER'S BLOCK! WOO! I have been working on this chapter for two days now, so it's very long thankfully! I hope you like it.**

**ALRIGHT 140 REVIEWS! I love you all for that, and that's what keeps me vigilant on this!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Alycie did not get a chance to speak to Murtagh all the next morning. She had been shaken roughly awake by Eragon in the early hours to find everything packed and ready for departure. They had set out without a word, riding relentlessly as fast as the horses could bear. Near noon they neared a village only to find it heavily guarded by soldiers. The few following villages were the same. Along the trail, a past had been hammered into the earth, bearing two wanted posters: Eragon's and Alycie's.

"It's a shame my first portrait had to be this," she said, holding it up for the others to see. "I rather like it." Eragon smirked, but suddenly jerked his head to look at Saphira as she bared her sharp teeth.

"What is it?" asked Murtagh.

"Soldiers ahead. It's an ambush," said Eragon.

They guided the horses silently off of the trail, steering them in a short arc around the hidden encampment, rejoining the trail once more on the other side. The same occurred further on, and they decided to abandon the trail all together. The sun moved through the sky as the miles fell behind the fugitives, and dusk soon covered the dry, cactus-laden hills in darkness. Hours later they stopped, looking out at a distant collection of lights indicating a village.

"There's a town, Bullridge, some leagues ahead that we must bypass," said Murtagh, pointing. "They're sure to have soldiers watching for us. We should try to slip past them now while it's dark."

They continued for three hours, skirting the soldiers' many watch fires that encircled the town. None of them spoke. Eragon did not even seem to communicate with Saphira, though that would not have generated noise. There was one particularly tense moment when Alycie tripped over a root, crashing into Murtagh and sending them sprawling. They had stayed completely still for a whole eight minutes before the guard abandoned his suspicions and returned to the fire.

They traveled until daybreak, relaxing at the fact that the last town was out of their way. The Ramr River ran to their left and right, the last thing to cross on their journey to the Hadarac. Alycie was nearly falling out of her saddle with fatigue. The light hitting her eyes seemed to be triggering a piercing pain in her head.

"Can we stop?" she asked. "I can't take much more of this."

"Let's find a gully or hollow where we can sleep undisturbed," said Eragon.

They continued a short ways to a small cluster of juniper trees. Alycie began to unload her bedroll, but hesitated, remembering the night before for the first time that day. She looked over at Murtagh curiously. He was helping Eragon unstrap the elf from Saphira's stomach. She shook her head, sighing, and spread her bedroll out beneath the low branches of a tree. She curled up under a blanket, rolling over and staring at the fallen leaves that littered the ground.

It had been just that one moment...if indeed it had truly happened. She may have been dreaming for all she knew. Her lack of sleep made it hard to recall what was real and what she had dreamed up on her own. When she'd awoken she'd been alone. It must have been a dream. He wasn't speaking to her any more than he had before. Yes, for sure it was a dream. That didn't make Alycie any happier though. She sighed. Oh how she would have loved it to be real.

"I'll take the first watch and wake you at midmorning," Murtagh was saying to the Rider.

Alycie glanced over and saw him sit on the ground, laying his sword on his lap. She turned her face away, rolling her eyes. How could she ever have thought him in love with her? It was absurd. Madness must be overcoming her. How else could she have mixed dreams in with reality? She sighed and shut her eyes, praying for sleep to come swiftly.

A hand brushed the hair back from her face and her eyes opened sharply, looking up. He was there. Alycie opened her mouth to speak, but Murtagh pressed a finger to her lips, nodding at the trees. She silently rose, following him away from the camp. They walked a ways into the cluster of trees, and then he turned to her.

"Listen, Alycie. About that night...the kiss...I--"

"It wasn't a dream?" Alycie interjected. Murtagh shook his head. Alycie let out a sigh of relief. She wasn't mad.

"But listen to me," continued Murtagh. Alycie nodded. "It was a mistake to kiss you. I shouldn't have done so..." His eyes met hers and he saw the hurt filling them. "I can't deny that I feel for you...I can't explain...it's better than anything I've ever felt. Safe...complete..."

"Then why is it a mistake?" asked Alycie.

"You have no idea how much danger I've put you in by kissing you," said Murtagh, shaking his head. Alycie cocked her head to the side quizzically.

"Danger? Why would that put me in danger?" she asked. Murtagh shook his head. "Tell me."

"No," he said. "But you see...we can't do this...I can't do this...if it puts you at risk." Alycie stepped forward, elevating herself onto her toes and pressing her lips against his. She felt his shoulders relax and heard his breath rush out in a sigh. She broke off, looking him in the eye.

"Now I've kissed you," she said. "So I bring the danger onto myself. I feel for you, and I'm not going to suppress that out of fear." Murtagh looked at her, smiling, then he shook his head.

"Reckless..." he muttered to himself. "But I won't stand against you." Alycie smiled at him, leaning her head against his chest happily. "But that does not mean I won't blame myself if anything happens to you because of me."

"Nothing's going to happen," said Alycie.

"You can never know for sure," said Murtagh darkly.

"But we can hope," replied Alycie. Murtagh lifted his hand, caressing her face gently, looking into her eyes. His other hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her in close to him. Alycie placed her arms around his middle, leaning her face in on his chest. He stroked her hair, sighing.

"I bring you out here to push you away, yet now you are closer than ever," he said. "You must have me under some sort of spell."

"If it is a spell, it's out of my control," said Alycie. Murtagh bent and kissed the top of her head, then held her out, smiling.

"I need to see if soldiers are attacking Eragon in his sleep," he said. Alycie laughed.

Murtagh took her wrist and gently lead her back to the campsite. He resumed his place on the ground, sword at his side. Alycie replaced her bedroll in Cadoc's saddlebags and snuggled in next to Murtagh, clutching her blankets around her. He twisted his fingers in her hair as the hours of exhaustion fell in on Alycie, sending her to sleep.

Murtagh stirred Alycie at midmorning as he woke Eragon for his watch. The Rider took his place alertly on the ground and Murtagh settled down for his sleep. Alycie groggily followed him to the bedroll, curling up beside him as she had before. As noon arrived, she was awoken for her term on watch. As she crawled away from the sleeping Murtagh, Eragon shot a look between them suspiciously before lying down near Saphira and giving in to sleep. The hours passed by quickly in her not fully alert state and soon it was mid-afternoon and she was waking Saphira.

That night they all awoke, drowsily saddling the horses for another long ride. Eragon was speaking with Saphira with a troubled expression. Murtagh glanced over as he adjusted Tornac's saddle.

"What's wrong?"

"The elf. Saphira is troubled that she hasn't woken or eaten; it disturbs me too. I healed her wounds, at least on the surface, but it doesn't seem to have done her any good."

"Maybe the Shade tampered with her mind," said Murtagh. Alycie shuddered, remembering how it felt.

"Then we have to help her." Murtagh walked to the elf, looking her over closely. He shook his head, standing.

"As far as I can tell, she's only sleeping. It seems as if I could wake her with a word or a touch, yet she slumbers on. Her coma might be something elves self-induce to escape the pain of injury, but if so, why doesn't she end it? There's no danger to her now."

"Maybe she doesn't know she's safe," said Alycie. Eragon nodded, looking at the elf. Murtagh cleared his throat, placing a hand on Eragon's shoulder.

"This must wait. We have to leave now or risk losing our hard-won lead. You can tend to her later when we stop." Eragon spent the last minute squeezing a wet rag so that water fell between the elf's lips, and then strapped her to Saphira and they were off again.

They rode through the darkness, clinging to the base of the hills for fear of being spotted should they venture too high. Saphira trailed along the ground with them, carrying the elf unconscious on her back. As dawn arrived, spilling light over the land, the sound of rushing water met their ears. They emerged from the hills onto the bank of a wide, thundering river. The opposite bank was so far into the distance that it could not be seen from where they stood.

"The Ramr!" exclaimed Eragon. Alycie too was amazed.

"Yes," said Murtagh. "We leave to find a place to ford safely." They looked up and down the bank of the Ramr River, squinting into the distance. They moved closer to the edge of the bank, leading the horses along. Alycie tossed a stick into the rushing current, watching it ferry off speedily.

"How deep do you think it is?" asked Eragon.

"I can't tell. Can you see how far across it is with magic?" asked Murtagh worriedly.

"I don't think so, not without lighting up this place like a beacon."

"How are we going to cross this?" asked Alycie, frowning. Saphira suddenly lifted off of the ground, soaring across the river. Eragon seemed to listen.

"A half mile!" he said in shock. Murtagh looked at him with wide eyes, eyebrows raised.

"Is that how far it is?" he asked. Eragon nodded.

"Saphira's offered to fly us each across one at a time," said Eragon. Murtagh shook his head.

"I'd rather not try it, for the horses' sake. Tornac isn't as accustomed to Saphira as Snowfire and Cadoc. He might panic and injure them both. Ask Saphira to look for shallows where we can swim over safely. If there aren't any within a mile in either direction, then I suppose she can ferry us."

Eragon turned to Saphira, relaying the message. The sapphire dragon spread her leathery wings and, with one large, graceful sweep, lifted off of the ground, soaring into the sky. Eragon withdrew a loaf of stale bread from Snowfire's saddlebags and tore it into pieces, tossing one to Murtagh and Alycie. They sat on the ground, eating in silence.

"Eragon," said Alycie after a while.

"Yes?"

"How do you read other people's minds?" Eragon thought, furrowing his brow.

"I...I don't know. Anyone can do it. It's just easier for me because I can use magic. I sort of step outside myself...and...touch other people's consciousness. I can read their emotions, see what their intentions are..."

"Can you read their memories?" asked Alycie. Murtagh glanced up at her, then at Eragon. He nodded.

"Yes, I can." Alycie nodded, looking down at the ground, tracing a design in the dirt with one finger. She looked back up.

"Is it possible for one to block a probe?" she asked. "You know, guard your mind from invaders?"

"Why do you ask?" asked Eragon. Alycie shrugged.

"Once we reach the Varden, we'll be keeping a lot of secrets and I'd like to have a way to guard them." Her eyes flicked to Murtagh, who met her gaze.

"Brom did tell me something about that. You focus on one thing and one thing alone. Then that is all an invader will encounter. Only very few people can pull off such a task though. Brom said that you can only learn to do so if you practice over and over again. If you get distracted, your block becomes weak and the invader will enter past it. It takes a lot of energy as well."

"Test me," said Alycie. "I'll try and block you out."

"Okay..." said Eragon. Alycie took a deep breath and stared at a stick on the ground.

She concentrated as hard as she could, taking in every little detail on the small twig. The familiar brush against her consciousness caught her attention, but she continued to focus on the twig, filling her mind with its picture. The probe became more noticeable for a moment, and then it retracted, poking at the outer boundaries of her mind, unable to venture further. Alycie's eyes began to water. She blinked and the picture vanished. Eragon's probe delved into her mind. It was not painful as Durza's had been, but it was uncomfortably noticeable, like when sand gets into an oyster's shell the first time.

"Get out of my head now," said Alycie, running her fingers through her hair, pressing her scalp with her fingertips as if to reach in and remove the probe herself. Eragon frowned at her.

"Most people can't tell when they're being probed," he said. "Odd...hang on..."

Alycie felt the probe jerk and memories began flashing before her eyes. She sucked in her breath, focusing hard on her shoe. The probe was pushed back and stopped forcing itself into her mind. She looked up from the leaf, feeling slightly dizzy as if she had been holding her breath. She saw Eragon stand out of the corner of her eye.

"Saphira's here," he said, looking up at the sky where the blue dragon was swooping down. She landed lightly on her claws, communicating silently with Eragon. He sighed. "The water is deep and strong both ways," he said. Murtagh got to his feet, dusting himself off.

"I'd better go over first, so I can watch the horses," he said, climbing into Saphira's saddle. He looked down at Eragon. "Be careful with Tornac. I've had him for many years. I don't want anything to happen to him." He looked at Alycie briefly as Saphira took off, flying over the river.

"Tornac will go next," said Eragon, "so Murtagh can calm him down. Then you, Cadoc, Snowfire, and then myself." Alycie nodded, looking back at the river. She felt Eragon's eyes on her and looked back.

"What is it?" she asked. He shook his head, looking back at the Ramr. Alycie raised an eyebrow, turning away as well.

Saphira returned and Eragon adjusted Tornac's saddle to cover his belly. She wrapped her claws around the panicking horse and lifted off, disappearing over the Ramr. Alycie turned to Eragon as they waited.

"So...how do you think my blocking would do against...oh I don't know...a Shade?"

"It would be as if there weren't a block," said Eragon.

"Even if I practiced for hours while we journey to the Varden?" asked Alycie. Eragon shook his head.

"It would be enough to block me out for an hour of nonstop probing, but nobody could hold a block against a Shade. I think they would have to have had years of training to accomplish that," he said. Alycie nodded. Eragon sighed.

"I saw the memory," he said. Alycie felt as if her blood had turned to ice as the words reached her ears.

"What memory?" she snapped quickly. Eragon put a hand on her shoulder.

"The Shade breeched your mind in Gil'ead," he said. "I understand why you didn't tell us, but this puts us in a bit more danger, though I can't possibly think what new knowledge he would have gained by that."

"I am sorry," said Alycie honestly, the weight of the secret collapsing into guilt in the pit of her stomach. "I didn't see him and before I knew it he was...I'm sorry."

"Do you know what he extracted?" asked Eragon.

"He saw my memories...but they were nothing important. Just my life as a slave and then my journey with you. He could have guessed we sought the Varden without them," she said.

"Then we don't have much to fear," said Eragon. He looked out over the river as the outline of Saphira's shape became visible against the pale sky. Alycie looked at the Rider.

"...You won't tell...Murtagh, will you?" she asked. Eragon looked at her.

"Not if you don't want me to," he said. Alycie smiled.

"Please," she said. He nodded. Saphira landed and Alycie climbed into the saddle, her worry breaking into a cloud of butterflies that rose in her stomach as the big blue dragon took of once again.

It was a very different thing to ride in Saphira's claws and to ride on her back. In her claws Alycie had been petrified for fear of being dropped and dizzy at the view of the spinning world thousands of meters below. Now, sitting securely in the saddle of the magnificent beast, she felt a strange freedom; exhilaration at the wind blowing past her face and her view for miles around. She turned and looked back at Eragon, but something caught her eye. More than a league away, a dark line was moving through the hills towards the Ramr. Alycie's eyes widened. The soldiers!

Saphira landed and Alycie pushed herself out of the saddle, dropping to the ground. As the dragon turned to return to the sky, Alycie called her name.

"The soldiers are closing in on Eragon! You must hurry! I saw them in the hills!" she exclaimed. Saphira's eyes widened and she gave a sort of nod, throwing herself into the air once again.

Alycie watched her go, and then turned to find Murtagh wrestling with a hysterical Tornac. The horse was inconsolable, thrashing and bucking wildly. Murtagh was throwing a rope over his head, tying it to a nearby sapling to prevent the warhorse's escape. He took the horse's head, holding his head to its muzzle, muttering to it soothingly. Tornac jerked his head away, but Murtagh took it in a firmer grip, stroking its nose and neck, attempting to soothe him.

Cadoc soon arrived, not as hysterical as Tornac, but bucking all the same. Alycie soon calmed him as well, and Murtagh was forced to do the same with Tornac again. This happened a third time when Saphira appeared with Snowfire. Tornac would whinny and buck when he saw her, his eyes dilated and white with fright. Alycie did her best to calm Snowfire and keep a hold on Cadoc until Eragon was flown over. Saphira flew far overhead for a time to allow the horses time to calm themselves. She returned to the ground and Eragon tied the elf back across her belly. Then, with the saddles readjusted, they continued their journey.

The travelers worked to keep themselves awake. They were all three falling asleep on their steeds or even on their own two walking feet. One would be awake to guide the horses, but at some points they found themselves asleep all at once with only Saphira alert enough to keep them on course. There was one incident where Alycie fell off of Cadoc in a doze and she awoke to find her sleeping companions riding ahead without her.

At noon they stopped, standing in the loose sand and staring ahead of them. Dunes rippled the earth like water in every direction, dotted here and there with some sparse plant life. On the horizon far in the distance was a jagged purple line.

They were facing the Hadarac Desert.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	20. The Desert and the Mountaintops

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Okay, it's 1 am so be happy I'm posting this today! Finally we've gotten there. No more writer's block for a long time I promise you! Enjoy.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

They walked to the cooling shade of a dune and untied the elf from Saphira's belly, laying her out on the sand. Murtagh removed his cloak, spreading it on the sand and lying on top of it. Alycie fell where she stood, closing her eyes against the light of the sun. She sighed and crawled to Murtagh. He placed an arm around her waist and she turned to his chest, falling asleep immediately. Eragon scratched his head, removing his cloak as well in the heat and lying down. He looked at Saphira, then closed his eyes, sighing himself into slumber.

After a few hours of sleep, he awoke to find Murtagh staring into the distance, absent-mindedly twisting his fingers in the sleeping Alycie's hair. He stretched, blinking in the sun, and turned to his companion.

"Couriers must have carried news of my escape to Galbatorix. He would have alerted the Ra'zac. They're sure to be on our trail by now. It'll take them a while to catch us even by flying, but we should be ready for them at all times," he said. Murtagh looked at him thoughtfully.

"I hope they won't be able to follow us past Bullridge. The Ramr was an effective way to lose pursuers; there's a good chance our tracks won't be found again," he said.

"Something to hope for indeed. I place no faith in luck right now, though. The Ra'zac could be on our trail even as we speak," said Eragon. Murtagh nodded, looking down at Alycie as she moved slightly. Eragon's eyes moved to her as well. "What is going on?" Murtagh looked at him.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Eragon nodded at Alycie. Murtagh sighed, looking down at her once more. His eyes then moved back to the expectant Rider. "She's very tired."

"Murtagh, don't avoid the question," said Eragon impatiently. "I saw her memories. I saw you kiss her. Saphira tells me it's happened before as well, while I was captive in Gil'ead. What are you two not telling me?"

"If you saw everything, then I would think it's obvious," said Murtagh, gesturing at how she was cuddled against his body. Eragon shook his head in amazement.

"But...the last time I ever heard anything out of you two it was outside Gil'ead when you were insulting each other," he said. Murtagh shrugged.

"Nobody knows how these things work," he said. Eragon laughed, brushing his hair back off of his forehead. Murtagh smiled, looking back down at the sleeping girl in his arms. "It's funny. A little over a month ago if I had left her in that cave...I wouldn't have cared what happened to her. But now...now I can't bear the thought..."

"Strange," agreed Eragon. He looked down at Alycie. "We should leave...wake her and I'll prepare the elf." He walked off to the unconscious beauty, lifting her and wrapping ropes around Saphira's belly. Murtagh pressed his lips lightly to Alycie's forehead. She stirred, opening her clear blue eyes.

"Wake up, Alycie, we need to resume the journey," he said. She nodded groggily, getting to her feet and walking to Cadoc, saddling him. Murtagh got to his feet, dusting his cloak off and throwing it on. Soon they were riding once again further into the Hadarac.

The bright, unforgiving sun shone down on them through the rest of the day, burning their necks and faces. Tempers were running unusually high, boiling in the sun as well as their bodies. Large pointed crags appeared in the distance, growing larger as the small caravan approached. The sand turned to tough, dry dirt and the dunes depleted. By sunset they had reached the jutting rocks, stopping at the base of a large pointed crag and resting in the thin shadow it cast on the desolate ground. Alycie felt the heat pressing in on her like a heavy pillow.

Murtagh started a little campfire while Eragon unstrapped the elf and laid her out on the ground. Alycie unsaddled the horses and tied them near a small patch of dry grass where they could graze. They sat around the fire, staring balefully into it's flickering depths. Eragon spoke.

"How far do you think we went?" he asked.

"I don't know!" snapped Murtagh, cursing. "We don't have enough water. And the horses have to drink."

"Calm down, Murtagh," said Alycie tiredly, pulling her knees into her chest, not looking up from the fire.

"Calm down!? I'll calm down once we're out of this damned, god-forsaken, desert wasteland," spat Murtagh, turning his bloodshot eyes to her. Eragon stood, sighing.

"Bring the horses," he said, walking to Saphira. Alycie's eyes flicked up in time to see Murtagh's furious face as he stood, storming off to where Tornac, Snowfire, and Cadoc were picketed.

Alycie got up and walked to where Eragon now stood, holding his shining palm over a freshly dug hole in the ground. He spoke a word or two and the hole darkened, filling slowly with water. The Rider opened his eyes, pleased with the accomplishment.

"I wish I could do magic," said Alycie, crossing her arms. Eragon laughed. She looked at him, smiling. "Well it _is_ convenient."

"True," said Eragon, "but it depletes your energy. And if you try a spell that you aren't capable of yet, it drains your strength until you die." Alycie grimaced.

Murtagh arrived with the horses, handing their reins to Alycie while he filled their waterskins quickly. Then, Cadoc, Snowfire, and Tornac drank from the waterhole so much that Eragon was weakened greatly from raising the water. Saphira took two long drinks. Murtagh and Alycie bent and gulped two quick mouthfuls, leaving Eragon to drink his full before releasing the water back into the earth.

The night brought on a surprising cold, causing the companions to huddle close to the small campfire. Alycie cuddled close to Murtagh, who draped his cloak over her shoulders carefully. His frustrated sigh told Alycie that his short temper remained. Eragon watched them across the fire, finally speaking.

"What are your plans, Alycie?" he asked.

"To travel with you both to the Beor Mountains where we'll find the Varden," responded the girl. She felt Murtagh stiffen next to her.

"You cannot travel one course. Murtagh has made it clear that he will not, under any circumstances, accompany me to the Varden," said Eragon. The pit dropped out of Alycie's stomach as she realized what they were saying. "You're going to have to choose. Either you go with Murtagh to chase the Ra'zac down, or you accompany me to the Varden."

"I--"

"She'll go to the Varden," said Murtagh sharply. Alycie looked up at him. "She would be safe and may even start a new life there." He looked down at her. "It's the best place for you."

"I won't leave you," she said. Murtagh sighed.

"Now is not the time to choose," he said.

The next morning was cold and bleak. Alycie soon found that Eragon's patience had worn as thin as Murtagh's and decided to keep her mouth shut. As the Rider handed out their breakfast of stale bread, he spoke.

"Do you think it'll be long before we leave the desert?"

"We're only crossing a small section of it, so I can't imagine that it'll take us more than two or three days," growled Murtagh, glaring.

"But look how far we've already come," said Eragon.

"Alright, maybe it won't! All I care about right now is getting out of the Hadarac as quickly as possible. What we're doing is hard enough without having to pick sand from our eyes every few minutes," snapped Murtagh, tearing off a large chunk of bread with his teeth. Alycie looked at hers, then stood, turning to walk away. "Where are you going?" asked Murtagh.

"Not far," said Alycie. Neither companion raised a complaint.

She rounded a crag, strolling along at a leisurely pace as she chewed her tasteless bread. Leaning up against the jutting rocks, her eyes looked off at the horizon, squinting through the haze. Uneven dark smudges could be seen lining the flat skyline. A whinny reached her ears and her head turned sharply to see a figure standing a little over a hundred meters away.

A chestnut horse pawed the dusty ground next to him, tossing it's mane. The figure himself wore dark clothes and his face was covered with a cloth wound around his head, which was directed right at Alycie. Neither of them moved for several minutes, each keeping their eyes on the other.

Alycie jumped as the call of her name reached her ears and she slowly edged back around the crag, not looking away from the figure until the rock blocked him from sight. When she reached the camp, Murtagh and Eragon were set to leave. She swung quickly and quietly into Cadoc's saddle, spurring him on as they resumed the ride.

As they left the crags behind, Alycie cast glances around, her eyes searching for the mysterious figure. He was nowhere to be seen. Meliana had told her of these back in the palace. They were illusions caused by the heat of the desert, about as real as a ghost. This must have been one of them.

Late in the day, Eragon steered his steed over to Murtagh, pointing at the horizon.

"What?" Alycie heard Murtagh grumble.

"Look closely," said Eragon.

"What, I don't...that's...that's impossible!" Alycie looked up, squinting at where Eragon was pointing. The haze had lifted and the smudges had grown more defined. They were not hills, as they had believed earlier, but rather the tops of mountains. "I knew the Beor Mountains were large, but not that monstrous size!" exclaimed Murtagh. Alycie's jaw dropped.

"That can't be them!" she exclaimed. Eragon looked back at her, grinning.

"Let's hope the animals that live there aren't in proportion to the mountains," he said. Alycie nodded, still amazed.

"It will be good to find some shade and spend a few weeks in leisure. I've had enough of this forced march," said Murtagh.

"I'm tired too, but I don't want to stop until the elf is cured...or she dies," said Eragon. Alycie groaned internally. She longed for rest with every bone in her body.

"I don't see how continuing to travel would help her. A bed will do her more good than hanging underneath Saphira all day," said Murtagh.

"Maybe...when we reach the mountains, I could take her to Surda...it's not that far. There must be a healer there who can help her; we certainly can't."

"We can talk about it later. For now our goal is to reach the Beors. There, at least, the Ra'zac will have some trouble finding us, and we will be safe from the Empire."

As the hours passed, the climate changed considerably, the heat becoming interrupted by cool breezes and grass becoming more prominent. They rode on eagerly, keeping their eyes on the caps of the Beors, which seemed to remain far away despite the distance they'd covered. Alycie took a deep breath, smelling water on the wind. As she opened her eyes, something caught her attention. The figure mounted on his horse stood, watching them ride. Alycie twisted her head around to get a better look, but the steed turned and galloped away back into the Hadarac.

By nightfall they'd reached the foothills of the Beor, camping by a stream. Murtagh and Eragon whooped and cheered in triumph, happy to be out of the desert. Alycie joined them as well, falling over in shock when Saphira let out a gleeful roar that sent the horses into panic.

Murtagh pulled her to her feet, laughing, and held her to him, kissing her passionately on the lips. She hugged his waist and he tripped, toppling onto the ground with Alycie on top of him. They continued to kiss, breaking off in laughter or smiles several times. They had made it out of the Empire. They were free.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	21. The Brawl and the Strangers

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR! 07!!!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"Eragon?"

"He looks like he's in pain..."

"What's wrong with him?" asked Alycie, crouching in front of the immobile Rider and looking into his face with concern.

"I'm not sure."

Murtagh bent and tapped his shoulder. No reply. Saphira sauntered over as well, bending her head to look at him. She seemed as worried as they were. Alycie took hold of the Rider's shoulders and shook him, looking into his face determinedly.

"Eragon! Wake up!" The boy breathed, opening his eyes and looking around. Alycie sighed in relief. Murtagh bent down, looking at him.

"Are you alright? You've been kneeling here for almost fifteen minutes," he said. Eragon looked surprised.

"I have?" he asked. He stood, stretching out his legs. Alycie rose as well, patting Eragon on the back.

"Don't do that again," she said. "You had us thinking--"

"I talked with Arya!" he exclaimed suddenly. Alycie and Murtagh exchanged odd looks. "The elf...that's her name."

"How do you know?" asked Alycie.

"I spoke with her...with her mind," said Eragon. "She's been poisoned with Skilna Bragh, but this state slows its progress. She needs Tunivor's Nectar, which lies closest with the Varden. She showed me the way, but we haven't much time. She has three or four days before death overpowers her. We need to reach the Varden in that time."

"How far away are the Varden?" asked Murtagh.

"I'm not exactly sure. From what she showed me, I think it's even farther than from here to Gil'ead," said Eragon. Alycie pushed her hair back off of her forehead, shaking her head.

"Oh no..." she muttered. "We've just completed one race; please...please not another one..."

"And we're supposed to cover that in three or four days!?" spat Murtagh in anger. "It took us five _long_ days to get here! What do you want to do, kill the horses? They're exhausted as it is!"

"But if we do nothing, she'll die! If it's too much for the horses, Saphira can fly ahead with Arya and me; at least we would get to the Varden in time. You and Alycie could catch up with us in a few days." Murtagh crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

"Of course. Murtagh the pack animal. Murtagh the horse leader. I should have remembered that's all I'm good for nowadays. Oh, and let's not forget, every soldier in the Empire is searching for me now because you couldn't defend yourself, and I had to go and_ save_ you. Alycie put herself in serious danger there too, and now she's not safe anywhere just like us. Yes, I suppose we'll just follow your instructions and bring up the horses in the rear like good little servants." Everyone looked at him in shock.

"What's wrong with you? I'm grateful for what you both did. There's no reason to be angry with me! I didn't ask you to accompany me or to rescue me from Gil'ead. You chose that. I haven't forced you to do anything," he said.

"Oh, not openly, no. What else could I do but help you with the Ra'zac? And then later, at Gil'ead, how could I have left with a clear conscience? She wouldn't have let me go, either," He gestured at Alycie, and then took a step towards Eragon, poking him in the chest. "The problem with you is that you're so totally helpless you force everyone to take care of you." Eragon gaped, then scowled.

"Don't touch me," he snapped. Murtagh laughed coldly.

"Or what, you'll punch me? You couldn't hit a brick wall." He reached out to push Eragon again, but Eragon caught his arm, hitting him in the stomach.

"Oi! Stop it!" yelled Alycie. They ignored her.

"I said, don't touch me!" Eragon repeated to Murtagh angrily.

The other man swore, holding his stomach, then he roared and sprang at Eragon, bowling him over. Alycie entered the fray, trying to pull them apart, but they pushed her out of the way. She fell backwards onto the ground, watching helplessly as Eragon kicked the fire, scattering embers and sparks everywhere. She turned to Saphira.

"Saphira, help me," she said, getting to her feet. "Get them away from each other!"

The dragon roared, whipping her tail down between them as they charged one another. They tried to get at each other over the tail, but Saphira's paws caught them, pinning them to the ground. They struggled against her grip, but to no avail. Alycie walked over and stood between them, hands on her hips, looking from one to the other. Murtagh avoided her eyes, looking forcibly up at the sky.

"Now if you're quite finished acting like rabid Urgal children, I believe we should take the time to discuss the problem like civilized people," she said. "I can tell you truthfully, you won't be standing anytime soon unless you do." She sat, looking at Eragon. "Eragon, would you like to start?"

"Murtagh...what is really the problem?" asked the Rider reluctantly, looking over at his pinned companion. Saphira moved her head, staring piercingly at Murtagh. He tried to look away, but he couldn't ignore her gaze, finally shrugging and muttering something inaudible. Saphira increased pressure on his chest, growling. He looked at Alycie angrily, repeating himself.

"I told you before: I don't want to go to the Varden," he said.

"Don't want to...or can't?" asked Eragon, puzzled. Murtagh struggled against Saphira's leg, cursing.

"Don't want to! They'll expect things from me that I can't deliver." Alycie blinked in confusion.

"Why, what did you do?" she asked. Murtagh rolled his eyes.

"_Nothing_," he said.

"Did you steal something from them?" asked Eragon.

"I wish it were that simple."

"Well, what is it, then? Did you kill someone important or bed the wrong woman?" Alycie stared at Murtagh dangerously, hearing the end of the question.

"No," he said, looking at Alycie. She relaxed. "I was born." He pushed at Saphira's leg again and she released them. They stood, dusting themselves off.

"You're avoiding the question," said Eragon, nursing a bloody lip.

"So what?" snapped Murtagh, heading to the edge of the camp. He stopped, sighing. "It doesn't matter why I'm in this predicament, but I can tell you that the Varden wouldn't welcome me even if I came bearing the king's head. Oh, they might greet me nicely enough and let me into their councils, but trust me? Never. And if I were to arrive under less fortuitous circumstances, like the present ones, they'd likely clap me in irons."

"Why though? What could you have possibly done to make them hate you so spitefully?" asked Alycie, crossing her arms.

"Won't you tell us what this is about? I've done things I'm not proud of, too, so it's not as if I'm going to pass judgment," said Eragon. Murtagh shook his head.

"It isn't like that. I haven't done anything to deserve this treatment, though it would be easier to atone for if I had. No...my only wrongdoing is existing in the first place," he said, eyes glinting. "You see, my father--"

Saphira suddenly hissed, looking sharply westward. They turned their heads as well and their faces paled. Alycie heard Murtagh curse under his breath. A league away from them marched a long line of dark figures, dressed for war, stretching for a mile. Leading them was a figure in a black chariot, holding aloft a red banner.

"What is it?" asked Alycie, squinting.

"It's the Empire," groaned Eragon. "They've found us...somehow..."

"Yes...but those are Urgals, not men," said Murtagh.

"How can you tell?"

"That flag bears the personal symbol of an Urgal chieftain. He's a ruthless brute given to violent fits and insanity." Alycie and Eragon looked at him in interest.

"Have you met him?" asked Alycie.

"Once, briefly. I still have the scars from that encounter. These Urgals might not have been sent here for us, but I'm sure we've been seen by now and that they will follow us. Their chieftain isn't the sort to let a dragon escape his grasp, especially if he's heard about Gil'ead." Eragon walked to the fire, kicking dirt to snuff it.

"We have to flee! You don't want to go to the Varden, but I have to take Arya to them before she dies. Here's a compromise: come with me until I reach the lake Kóstha-mérna, then go on your way," he said. Murtagh hesitated, but Alycie spoke.

"Y-You could go now," she said shakily. "Eragon could fly ahead with the elf and I could follow with the horses." Eragon shook his head.

"If you leave now in sight of the column, Urgals will follow you. And then where will you be, facing them alone?"

"Very well," said Murtagh, picking up Tornac's saddlebags and situating them on his steed. "But when we near the Varden, I _will _leave." He glanced at Alycie briefly before turning back to Tornac. She sighed, walking to prepare Cadoc for yet another race. Saphira took off and they left the short-lived camp, tiredly riding off through the Beors in the fading light.

They took turns sleeping in their saddles to further themselves from the Urgal army. The horses seemed ready to keel over at any minute, but they rode vigilantly on, breathing hard. Saphira flew off to hunt near morning, leaving the elf to ride Snowfire along with Eragon. They soon reached a pond, stopping to allow the horses a rest. Alycie walked to Murtagh, sitting next to him.

"I want to go with you when Eragon reaches the Varden," she said. Murtagh didn't look at her, seemingly lost in thought. She continued. "If you leave before he is definitely safe, I will accompany him the rest of the way. Then, I'll take Cadoc and ride back to find you. That is my choice." He looked at her.

"If you do, you will be safe nowhere ever again," he said. The Empire, the Varden, it will make no difference. Do you still want to resign yourself to a life of running?"

"For you," she replied, leaning in and kissing him softly on the cheek. He looked at her longingly, then shook his head.

"Why?" he asked. Alycie opened her mouth to reply, but she stopped, pointing suddenly. Murtagh followed her gaze.

Standing on a hill ahead of them was a score of men mounted on horses. Their leader wore a brown cloak and held a mace. Murtagh slowly drew his sword. Eragon looked up, alarmed, then followed where Alycie was pointing.

"Could they be Varden?" asked Murtagh. Eragon drew his bow, stringing it warily.

"According to Arya, they're still scores of leagues away. This might be one of their patrols or raiding groups," he said. Alycie was watching the distant men. There was something distantly familiar about them.

"Assuming they're not bandits," said Murtagh, mounting Tornac and drawing his bow. Eragon swung onto Snowfire's saddle, covering Arya with a blanket.

"Should we try to outrun them?" he asked.

"It wouldn't do any good. Tornac, Cadoc, and Snowfire are fine war-horses, but they're tired, and they aren't sprinters. Look at the horses those men have; they're meant for running. They would catch us before we had gone a half-mile. Besides, they may have something important to say. You'd better tell Saphira to hurry back," said Murtagh. Alycie mounted Cadoc. She looked at Eragon, who was gripping Zar'roc.

"I would feel much better if I had a nice big sword to brandish," she said, turning to Murtagh with an accusatory gaze. He glanced at her.

"We can take care of them," he said. "You just need to stay near us."

"If they threaten us, I can frighten them away with magic. If that doesn't work, there's Saphira. I wonder how they'd react to a Rider? So many stories have been told about their powers...it might be enough to avoid a fight."

"Don't count on it," said Murtagh. "If there's a fight, we'll just have to kill enough of them to convince them we're not worth the effort." Alycie glanced at him.

"Ruthless, aren't you?" she asked.

"I have to be," said Murtagh.

The man on the hill lifted his mace into the air, and the men began to gallop towards them, whooping and yelling. They brandished their weapons, banging on their shields wildly. At a yell from the mace-wielding leader, the men encircled the travelers, training their arrows on them. Alycie clutched her small dagger, glaring every one of the strangers in the eye, daring them to try anything. The leader crossed his arms, looking them up and down.

"Well, these are better than the usual dregs we find! At least we got healthy ones this time. And we didn't even have to shoot them. Grieg will be pleased," he said. Alycie's face drained of color as realization hit her. Grieg. Every slave knew that name. Grieg was one of the most powerful slave traders in all of Alagaësia. Her hand tightened on the dagger and she tried to catch Murtagh's eye. The leader continued to speak. "Now as for you three," he said to the companions, "if you would be so good as to drop your weapons, you'll avoid being turned into living quivers by my men." His men laughed and the archers smirked.

"Who are you and what do you want? We are free men traveling through this land. You have no right to stop us," said Murtagh.

"Oh I have every right. And as for my name, _slaves_ do not address their masters in that manner, unless they want to be beaten," said the leader. Alycie heard Eragon curse and saw Murtagh's eyes narrow. "Throw down your weapons and surrender!" One of the slavers was eyeing Alycie up and down as his horse pulled up next to hers.

"We got a fine-lookin' lass 'ere, Torkenbrand," he said, smirking suggestively. "In congratulations of our find, shouldn' we take it upon ourselves to celebra'e a little?" The rest of the men laughed and Alycie saw Murtagh stiffen.

"There ain't no rules 'bout untouched slaves tha' I can think of," said the leader, Torkenbrand, showing his filthy teeth in a twisted smirk. The men laughed once again.

Alycie sat perfectly still, staring at Torkenbrand. Then she shot the hand holding the dagger out to the side, slitting the slaver's throat. As the slavers let out an angry roar as one, Murtagh smashed his elbow back into another's face. The man fell from his saddle and Murtagh wheeled Tornac around. He reared and stomped his hooves into the screaming man's back. Alycie grabbed the dead man's sword before proceeding to push the body out of its saddle, slapping the animal's flanks and sending it galloping into the trees.

Eragon held up his hands, muttering something in the ancient language. Blue fire erupted from his shining palm, hitting the ground and exploding into millions of small falling flame drops. Saphira hit the ground, displaying her razor-sharp teeth and roaring at the slavers.

"Behold! I am a Rider! Flee if you wish to live!" shouted Eragon, raising Zar'roc above his head. The slavers complied, scrambling every which-way to escape the dragon.

Alycie watched them, her hate rising uncontrollably. She suddenly jabbed her heels into Cadoc's side, galloping after the running men. She heard Eragon shout in warning, but ignored him, reaching a fleeing slaver and plunging her blade through his middle. She withdrew it, spurring Cadoc on madly towards the next. She nearly hit a sudden wall of sapphire scales, swerving at the last minute. She did not stop, turning sharply to the side to run around her. Saphira's head snaked in front of her, roaring. Cadoc reared and Alycie clutched his neck to keep from falling off. Glaring at the Saphira, she turned, galloping back to Eragon and Murtagh. The latter was standing in front of the headless corpse of Torkenbrand, cleaning his sword. Alycie reached them, swiftly dismounting and marching over to Murtagh.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded. Murtagh looked puzzled. She pushed him. "Steal the vengeance from someone who deserves it, will you? It's my right!"

"_You_ wanted to kill him?" asked Murtagh, perplexed.

"YES!" shouted Alycie. Eragon was marching over, looking at both of them in utter shock.

"Are your brains rotten? Why did you kill them? Alycie, I promised them safe passage, yet you rode off to murder them all like a thing possessed!" Alycie turned her flaming eyes onto him.

"Are you deaf? They were slavers! They all _deserved_ to be killed!" she shouted.

"I don't see why you're so upset, Eragon," said Murtagh. The Rider looked at him incredulously.

"Upset! I'm well past that! Did it even occur to you that we could just leave _him_ here and continue on our way? No! Instead you turn into an executioner and chop off his head. He was defenseless!"

"Well, we couldn't keep him around...he _was_ dangerous. The others ran off--"

"Only because that stupid dragon blocked me from catching them," muttered Alycie. Saphira growled dangerously. Alycie scoffed at her.

"The Urgals would have found him and learned about Arya," finished Murtagh, crossing his arms in a justified manner.

"But _kill_ him?" exclaimed Eragon. "Kill _them_?"

"They would have killed others!" argued Alycie. "I had a right to kill them!"

"No, you didn't, Alycie! We all know you were a slave and that you think you have a right to kill every slaver you come across, but that's not an excuse to become a cold-blooded murderer!" shouted Eragon. Alycie stared at him, teeth clenched.

"We didn't _all_ know," she said, her eyes flicking to Murtagh. The Rider faltered, but retained his defiant composure. Alycie continued. "I wasn't going to go through that again or let anyone else! By letting them escape you've probably condemned another poor soul to a life of enslavement! I had a right! But what do you know about vengeance? You're just a little farm boy from the middle of nowhere." Eragon walked over to her angrily.

"The Ra'zac went and killed this little farmboy's uncle, burning his house down on top of him. Garrow was the only father I've ever known. You say I don't know vengeance? I followed the Ra'zac for excruciating months for it," he said. He turned to watch Murtagh as he walked to the headless Torkenbrand, wiping his blade clean on his tunic. "And you. He was on his knees for God's sake," he said.

"I'm only trying to stay alive," said Murtagh, looking up at him. "No stranger's life is more important than my own."

"But you can't indulge in wanton violence. Where is your empathy?" hissed Eragon, gesturing at Torkenbrand's fallen head.

"Empathy? Empathy? What empathy can I afford my enemies? Shall I dither about whether do defend myself because it will cause someone pain? If that had been the case, I would have died years ago! You must be willing to protect yourself and what you cherish no matter what the cost," declared Murtagh, staring at him. Eragon shoved Zar'roc into its sheath.

"You can justify any atrocity with that reasoning," he said, shaking his head in disgust.

"Do you think I enjoy this? My life has been threatened from the day I was born! All of my waking hours have been spent avoiding danger in one form or another. And sleep never comes easily because I always worry if I'll live to see the dawn. If there ever was a time I felt secure, it must have been in my mother's womb, though I wasn't safe even there! You don't understand...if you lived with this _fear_, you would have learned the same lesson I did: _Do not take chances_," shouted Murtagh. Alycie and Eragon were both staring at him. He gestured at Torkenbrand. "He was a risk that I removed. I refuse to repent, and I won't plague myself over what is done and past. If you wanted him for your own vengeance, I can't help that you were some fifty feet away chasing his underlings for the same purpose." He shot a look at Alycie, who stared coldly back, though her stare was not as hateful as before. Eragon walked up to him, looking him in the eye.

"It was still the wrong thing to do," he said strongly. He turned, walking off to tie Arya to Saphira once more. Alycie walked up to Murtagh, her arms crossed. She stared at his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes for shame.

"Sorry," she said once, then moved to Cadoc, climbing into the saddle once more. Murtagh mounted Tornac, then guided him over to Cadoc, looking at Alycie. She didn't meet his eyes, her face glowing.

"I don't mind your past," he said quietly.

"I do," said Alycie, her voice cracking. Murtagh opened his mouth to say something, but Eragon rode up.

"Let's go," he grumbled angrily, and they rode away from the motionless bodies of the slavers. Alycie glanced at the still-red blade she had taken from the slaver. It hung from her waist, glinting ominously. She had a feeling it would not be the last time she used it.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	22. The Dream and the Discoveries

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

They stopped at nightfall, silently setting up camp. They ate quickly, refusing to look at one another. Eragon was still angry at both Alycie and Murtagh for their murderous actions, yet he volunteered, grumbling, to take the first watch. Murtagh walked to his bedroll, lying down with his back to the Rider. Alycie started towards him, hesitated, then turned and took her own bedroll from Cadoc's saddlebags. She walked a fair ways away from either male, lying down. She pulled the long sword out of her belt, laying it out in front of her face. The distant firelight reflected on the bloodstained steel. She wiped it along the grass, watching the green turn to red.

Her first kill. She was labeled for life. A cold-blooded murderer, as Eragon had called her. So this was what her brother had done. This was what he had felt. This was what Murtagh had felt. Or had he felt no guilt? This was what countless others had felt as they felt their first blades cut into human flesh, extinguishing the light of life in them forever. She closed her eyes.

_She flew into a vertigo as images passed before her mind's eye in a dream sequence. The spinning stopped and she found herself standing in the Hadarac Desert, looking around. She was alone. Something grabbed her leg and she looked down to see the slaver whose throat she'd slit. He looked up at her and his head swung back, revealing his bloody windpipe in the gash she'd made. Alycie jumped away as he made a sickly, rasping, rattling noise in his throat. She tripped over something behind her and fell into the sand. She froze. Torkenbrand's head rolled to face her, a mocking expression on his face._

_"Once a slave, always a slave. You won't run free forever," he growled, laughing. Alycie clenched her teeth in anger, kicking his head away. She tried to stand, but her feet sank into the sand. She looked down to find that it was loose and wet with blood, rising above her ankles. She struggled to move her feet, but the bloody quicksand held fast._

_A loud roar filled her ears and Alycie turned to see the large, blue form of Saphira flying through the wind whipped sands that swirled through the air. On her back sat the armored figure of Eragon. She called out to them, but the wind's speed increased, causing her to shield her eyes. Suddenly, an alien cry sounded and Alycie covered her ears, fearing they might burst from the pain of the loudness. She squinted against the sandstorm, trying to see what it was. Saphira was gathering speed, flying faster than Alycie had ever seen, towards...another dragon. Red as a ruby, this dragon was gigantic, at least twice the size of Saphira. A rider sat upon that dragon's back as well, raising his blade high. Alycie breathed sharply. The blade of the sword was red. It was Zar'roc._

_She looked back at Saphira and was shocked to find her as big as the red dragon, showing her long, saber-sharp teeth as she roared again. Alycie strained to see the Rider's face, but a helmet concealed it. If the Rider of the red dragon was Eragon...who rode Saphira?_

_Alycie looked down in alarm. The red quicksand was nearing her thighs. She looked around for something, anything she could grab on to. Her eyes stopped on someone in the distance. The figure from the desert._

_"Help!" she called through the howling of the wind. The figure remained motionless. She looked back down, attempting to dig her legs free. Her fingers slid through the mud like sand as if it were water. It flowed back around her skin as soon as she let go, though it bound like mud. She lifted her hands, staring in horror. They were covered in red, sticky blood._

_Something touched her shoulder and Alycie turned her head to see the figure standing next to her, extending a hand. She took it, and he pulled her out of the quicksand. Before she could say anything, however, the monstrous Saphira hit the sand next to her with a loud crash that made the ground shake. The red dragon landed hard in front of her, reeling its head back. Alycie's eyes widened._

_"NO!" she screamed. The red dragon shot its head forward, emitting an unbelievable jet of bright crimson flame from its open mouth, engulfing Saphira and her Rider. Alycie began to run towards the dueling dragons, but the figure caught her arm, twisting it. She looked back in time to see the figure reach up and remove his hood._

_It was Durza._

_The shade settled his deep burgundy eyes on Alycie's pale blue ones. A smile stretched the corners of his mouth, displaying the pointed, sharp, filed teeth behind his lips. He pulled her closer, his gaze never leaving hers._

_"Tsk tsk. This_ is_ a predicament..." he hissed evilly. Alycie's head exploded with pain as she felt the probe enter, searching everything she had. It was scratching at the very essence of her being. It was destroying her..._

Her eyes shot open, staring into the darkness. She slowly sat up, taking a deep, shaky breath. She lifted her hands to her face, turning them over and over in front of her eyes. They were clean with no trace of red in sight. She sighed in relief, closing her eyes.

"Bad dream?" came the voice of Murtagh. She looked around.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm on watch," said Murtagh. Alycie pulled her knees in to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Her eyes flicked to her sword, still on the ground next to the bedroll. There was silence apart from the crackling of the fire. Murtagh looked at her. "Alycie."

"Yes?" she snapped. She heard him snort in disbelief.

"What? Are you still angry with me for taking your retribution?" he asked incredulously.

"No," she said, looking at him.

"Do you think me a murderer as well as..." He gestured at the sleeping form of Eragon. Alycie shook her head.

"No."

"Then why this evasiveness?" he asked. Alycie looked away, setting her chin on her knees.

"It's not you," she said finally, sighing. Murtagh paused.

"Alycie, I knew you were a slave before Eragon said it today," he said. Alycie turned to him, looking into his silver eyes.

"How long have you known?" she asked.

"Since you pushed me off of Tornac in Urû'baen," replied Murtagh. He hesitated. "The second time." Alycie smiled sadly. "After that the scars only enforced the idea. Your inability to read was an addition, though many can't read besides slaves." Alycie nodded.

"I've been obvious, haven't I?" she asked.

"Not in the slightest. I wasn't completely sure until Eragon confirmed my theory today," said Murtagh. Alycie looked away. He stood, walked over to her bedroll, and sat facing her.

"You feel ashamed?" he asked. Alycie raised her eyebrows.

"Wouldn't you?" she asked, looking at him. "If you'd been known as the scum of the city your entire life, would you not be the slightest bit ashamed at that past?" Murtagh crossed his arms, leaning in with a matter-of-fact expression.

"I find that slaves are actually some of the cleverest and most skilled of all Alagaësians," he said. Alycie rolled her eyes.

"You expect me to believe that?" she asked.

"Yes," said Murtagh. Alycie shrugged, smiling. Murtagh smiled as well. "That's better. I can't stand it when you don't smile." She looked at him.

"I've made my own theory about you as well," she said. Murtagh's eyes flickered.

"What theory is that?" he asked. Alycie shook her head.

"It's unlikely...nobles don't usually stand to mix with the scum of the city..." she muttered. Murtagh furrowed his brow.

"Nobles?" he asked. Alycie nodded. "You think I am a noble?"

"I'm nearly positive," said Alycie, "Though several things contradict it." Murtagh raised an eyebrow.

"And how did you come to such a conclusion?" he asked. Alycie folded her arms.

"You speak without an accent, meaning you're from a big city, probably Urû'baen, with people from all over. Your horn has silver fittings; you seem unnaturally informed of the government and other nobles' dealings, and your sword. It's of fine make, finer than a commoner could afford. Not to mention your gold supply never seems to wane," she said. Murtagh regarded her.

"...Clever," he said finally. Alycie hesitated. Her eyes widened.

"You...you don't mean I'm correct..." she said. He paused, then nodded. Alycie gaped. "I wasn't sure...I actually didn't believe it at all even though there was evidence."

"I assure you I am," said Murtagh, nodding. "But it gives me no pleasure to say so." Alycie shifted uncomfortably. Murtagh looked at her solemnly. "Please don't act any differently towards me." Alycie nodded, leaning in and kissing him.

"I am sorry I snapped earlier," she said. "Bloodlust, you know."

"Old wounds take time to heal," said Murtagh. "When did Eragon find out?"

"Ages ago," said Alycie. "When you were hunting. His ribs were just healed from the Ra'zac attack." Murtagh raised his eyebrows.

"That was a long time ago," he said. "You told him?"

"We agreed to be truthful to one another. No more secrets acting as barriers."

"That was before we sparred the first time," said Murtagh. Alycie nodded.

"It seems I've known you all my life," she said. "I barely remember everything that happened before I escaped from Dras-Leona." Murtagh nodded.

"The first time I saw you, you were lying unconscious on the ground muttering to yourself," said Murtagh. "I thought you were merely a foolish girl spiting her parents by running away."

"I don't remember being sick," said Alycie. "I remember waking up once on a horse riding with you two. You seemed nice enough, and I had a splitting headache, so I didn't attempt to escape."

"Who is Meliana?" asked Murtagh. Alycie blinked.

"What?"

"It was one of the names you muttered in your...state," he said. Alycie sighed.

"Meliana was my greatest friend in the palace. I tried to help her escape along with me, but she refused to go further when I told her my intentions. She would have loved to meet you all..." She drifted off, staring into the darkness in thought.

"What made you want to leave? I mean...you hadn't attempted it before had you?" asked Murtagh. Alycie smiled.

"Just count the scars on my back and see how many times I failed to escape," she said. Murtagh went silent. She continued. "My brother Garrick came to town. I saw him in the street and asked him to come see me that night. When he requested it of his master, Fexir began to beat him in a drunken rage. My brother fought back, accidentally killing him. He alerted me that night. I had just met Brom, disguised as a traveling bard who had entertained in the servants' quarters. We planned an escape and I went back for Meliana. After she refused to leave, I set off on my way, climbing over the gate and hobbling on bloody feet the rest of the way out of the city. Garrick never arrived."

"I know him," came a voice. Murtagh and Alycie looked quickly around to see Eragon sitting on his bedroll. "Your talking woke me up. I saw your brother kill the merchant," he said. Alycie raised her eyebrows.

"I remember you! I asked who saw him and he mentioned a boy my age."

"That wasn't the last time," continued Eragon, standing and walking over. "The next day, when I went to the cathedral, I found him hiding in a wooden cabinet." He laughed. "That was your brother? I feared he would kill me when I discovered his hideout. He did look like you...I realize the resemblance now. He acts like you too. Cocky. The Ra'zac found us and we ran. He took off down another street after a while and I lost track of him. I didn't see him get captured."

"He was though," said Alycie. "I found him in Gil'ead, remember? I was trying to break him free." Eragon laughed.

"Some coincidence," he said. They lapsed into silence.

"I suppose it's my watch now," said Alycie. Eragon nodded.

"Wake me in a few hours," he said, standing and returning to his bedroll. Alycie twisted around, taking her sword off of the ground and balancing it on her knees.

"Goodnight then," she said to Murtagh. He shook his head.

"I'd rather stay up with you," he said. "I can wait for your watch to end." Alycie smiled, kissing him.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

The next morning, Eragon seemed to have recovered some of his resentment towards the other two, flying off with Saphira early on and leaving them with the horses. They rode along at a slow pace, leading Snowfire behind them.

"What if the elf dies before we reach the Varden?" asked Alycie.

"Then you and I will have less of a reason to go to them," said Murtagh. "And I'd imagine Eragon would be very upset." Alycie nodded.

"Why do you not want to go to the Varden?" she asked.

"I told you before; I would not be welcomed as you would," replied Murtagh.

"Why though?" asked Alycie. Murtagh gave her a pained expression.

"I keep imagining that if I tell you, the next thing I'll see is you running off into the distance screaming," he said. Alycie nearly laughed. Murtagh's face remained serious.

"You think I would run off screaming? How bad is this secret? Surely it can't be so horrible," she said.

"It is," said Murtagh distantly. "It's haunted me since birth."

"Well come on then, what is it?" asked Alycie. Before Murtagh could answer, Saphira and Eragon landed. Murtagh assumed a moody disposition immediately.

"What now?" he asked contemptuously.

"The Urgals are overtaking us," said Eragon. Alycie groaned.

"How? We've been riding beyond our limits for days now," she exclaimed.

"How far do we still have to go?" asked Murtagh, looking at the sun for a time estimate.

"Normally...I would guess another five days. At the speed we've been traveling, only three. But unless we get there tomorrow, the Urgals will probably catch us, and Arya will certainly die," said Eragon.

"She might last another day," said Murtagh.

"We can't count on it. The only way we can get to the Varden in time is if we don't stop for anything, least of all sleep. That's our only chance." Murtagh gave a cold laugh.

"How do you expect us to do that? We've already gone days without adequate sleep. Unless Riders are made of different stuff than us mortals, you're as tired as we are. We've covered a staggering distance, and the horses, in case you haven't noticed, are ready to drop. Another day of this might kill us all."

"So be it. We don't have a choice," said Eragon. Murtagh looked out at the Beors.

"I could leave with Alycie and let you fly ahead with Saphira...That would force the Urgals to divide their troops and would give you a better chance of reaching the Varden."

"It would be suicide," said Eragon. "Somehow those Urgals are faster on foot than we are on horseback. They would run you down like a deer. The only way to evade them is to find sanctuary with the Varden."

"I'll escape later," said Murtagh suddenly. "When we get to the Varden, I can disappear down a side valley and find my way to Surda, where I can hide without attracting too much attention."

"So you're staying?" asked Eragon and Alycie.

"Sleep or no sleep, I'll see you to the Varden," said Murtagh.

"And you?" asked Eragon, looking at Alycie. Alycie looked at Arya. The elf looked pale and cold, as if death were finishing it's final circulation throughout her body. She sighed in resignation and looked back at Eragon.

"Fine," she said. "I submit."

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	23. The Juggernauts and the Confession

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

They rode nonstop through the night, dog-tired, yet determined. They slept in shifts, leaving one to guide the horses through the dark wilderness. This was difficult due to the fact that Eragon was the only one of them who knew where they were headed, and he was woken several times during his sleep. There were few incidents where he mistook the directions he had obtained from the elf's mind, and they had to double back.

As the sun rose, the light revealed the column of pursuing Urgals a far behind them, heightening their spirits. Alycie stretched as they walked along, leading their steeds to give them a rest.

"Last day," she said. "The final death race and then...we're free." Eragon yawned.

"If we're not reasonably close to the Varden by noon, I'm going to fly ahead with Arya. You'll be free to go wherever you want then, but you'll have to take Snowfire with you. I won't be able to come back for him," he said.

"That might not be necessary; we could still get there in time," said Murtagh.

"We could," said Eragon, shrugging.

"We've been pressing ourselves to the limit for days. If we don't make it in time...I don't know what I'll do, but I assure you, it won't be pleasant," said Alycie. They sniggered.

"We'll make it," said Murtagh confidently.

They drove on through the morning, rounding an unbelievably gargantuan mountain. Eragon pointed suddenly at a narrow valley ahead of them.

"If we can slip through there without being seen, it might confuse them," he said. Murtagh glanced over his shoulder.

"It's worth a try, but they've followed us easily enough so far." Alycie blinked in confusion, turning. She swore loudly. The column of Urgals was considerably closer than they had been a few hours previously.

"How the hell did they catch up to us?" she asked, her voice oddly high pitched. "They must be juggernauts or something!"

"Calm down and focus on making it to that valley over there," said Eragon. Alycie took a deep breath and followed them.

They entered some trees that made up the Beors' forest. he trees were tall and ominous, with black bark and needles. They had to avoid running into their knobby roots or the strange, large cones that dropped from the branches. Further in, the trees became so dense that Saphira was forced to take Arya and fly above them. The untamed brush and lack of a trail slowed them considerably. The sound of water rushing along the Beartooth River followed them all day.

They reached the valley near dusk, finding it wider than it looked from afar, belittled by the enormous peaks that framed it. A cloud of fog drifted along the ground, chilling them to the bone. Alycie shivered, clutching the spare cloak closer around her shoulders for warmth.

"The Varden are hidden at the end of this valley," said Eragon. "If we hurry, we might get there before nightfall."

"How are we going to get out of here?" asked Murtagh, crossing his arms. "I don't see any valleys joining this one, and the Urgals are going to hem us in pretty soon. Alycie and I need an escape route."

"Don't worry about it. This is a long valley; there's sure to be an exit further in," said Eragon impatiently. He looked at Alycie. "You're going with him then? Positively?" She nodded.

"If Murtagh feels the need to leave and you still need help to reach the Varden, then I'll accompany you that far, but I'm not staying with them," she said. Eragon glanced from one to the other.

"I'll miss your company," he said to them. Murtagh shrugged.

"You'll get new companions. That is if we reach them before the Urgals catch up to us," he said. Eragon nodded.

"Watch Arya. I'm going to fly with Saphira. We'll meet you up ahead," he said. He untied the elf from Saphira, placing her on Snowfire and hopping onto Saphira's saddle.

"Be careful," warned Murtagh. Eragon nodded, taking off. Murtagh took Snowfire's reins, leading him along beside Tornac. He and Alycie dug their heels into the horses' sides, resuming their gallop through the valley. After a few minutes of this, they stopped, dismounting to give Cadoc, Tornac, and Snowfire a rest. They walked along, guiding their steeds through the trees.

"How is he going to survive without us?" said Alycie, smiling. Murtagh snorted.

"He'll stay safe with the Varden," he said. "That is, of course, if he doesn't manage to pick a fight with a dwarf." Alycie's humor turned to wonderment.

"Dwarves? There are dwarves with the Varden?" she asked, her eyes wide and curious.

"We are in the _mountains_, Alycie," said Murtagh. "Dwarves mine the Beors. They haven't been seen since Galbatorix began his reign of terror. It's widely believed throughout Alagaësia that they've joined the Varden."

"Who else has joined them?" asked Alycie.

"Elves and humans," said Murtagh. "Though the elves have supposedly withdrawn to their forest of Du Weldenvarden." Alycie whistled.

"Amazing. I've never seen anyone of another kindred aside from that elf there," she said, pointing at Arya, who was tossing weakly in her unconscious state. They watched her momentarily.

"Few have. They tend to avoid the Empire," said Murtagh. He looked at her. "Are you having second thoughts about the Varden?"

"Well, they _do_ have dwarves," said Alycie sarcastically, smiling. Murtagh rolled his eyes.

"I won't hold you back if you want to join the Varden, Alycie," he said seriously. Alycie gave him a look.

"I was joking, Murtagh. I've made my decision. Where you go, I go." Murtagh looked away.

"That worries me," he whispered to himself. Alycie opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated as Murtagh suddenly stopped walking, staring at the ground.

"What is it?" she asked, halting as well.

"Take the reins," said Murtagh quickly. Alycie took them without question. He dropped to the forest floor, feeling the ground. Alycie bent over, her eyes widening.

There in the ground was an impression of a wolf's paw. The tracks continued on ahead of them. They were unbelievably large. It was as if an Urgal with paw-shaped feet had landed there from a drop of near twenty feet. They both straightened and looked at each other.

"We'd better keep moving," said Murtagh. Alycie nodded vigorously, handing the reins back to him. They had walked only a few short paces, however, when Saphira landed in a small field next to them. Eragon lay against her neck. He didn't dismount. Murtagh and Alycie rushed over, Murtagh's face turning to frustration. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

"...I made a mistake," said Eragon. Alycie let her breath out in despair. "The Urgals have entered the valley. I tried to confuse them, but I forgot one of the rules of magic, and it cost me a great deal."

"I just found some wolf tracks, but the footprints are as wide as both of my hands and an inch deep. There are animals around here that could be dangerous even to you, Saphira." He turned to the dragon. "I know you can't enter the forest, but could you circle above us and the horses? That should keep these beasts away. Otherwise there may only be enough left of Alycie or myself to roast in a thimble."

"Humor, Murtagh?" asked Eragon, smiling. His muscles shuddered shortly.

"Only on the gallows," said Murtagh, putting a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes. "I can't believe that the same Urgals have been following us the whole time. They would have to be birds to catch up with us."

"It's as if they're not alive at all," said Alycie. "And instead they're machines chasing us, stopping for nothing."

"Saphira said they're larger than any we've seen," said Eragon. Murtagh cursed sharply, slapping his forehead.

"That explains it! Saphira, if you're right, then those are Kull, elite of the Urgals. I should have guessed that the chieftain had been put in charge of them. They don't ride because horses can't carry their weight. Not one of them is less than eight feet tall. And they can run for days without sleep and still be ready for battle. It can take five men to kill one. Kull never leave their caves except for war, so they must expect a great slaughter if they are out in such force." Alycie sank to her knees.

"Urgals more powerful than Urgals?" she asked in disbelief, covering her face with her hands. "I didn't know such beasts existed. We're dead...we'll never make it to the Varden by tomorrow..."

"Can we stay ahead of them?" asked Eragon, looking worriedly from Alycie to Murtagh.

"Who knows? They're strong, determined, and large in numbers. It's possible that we may have to face them. If that happens, I only hope that the Varden have men posted nearby who'll help us. Despite our skill and Saphira, we can't hold off Kull." Eragon tried to sit up, but he swayed unsteadily.

"Could you get me some bread? I need to eat," he said. Murtagh retrieved a hard old loaf from the horses' saddlebags, handing it to him. Alycie bent into a fetal position, not moving. Murtagh glanced around the valley, examining the rock walls of the mountains hopefully. Eragon knew what he was thinking. "There'll be one farther in."

"Of course," said Murtagh strongly. He looked back at the Rider. "We must go."

"How is Arya?" asked Eragon.

"The fever's worse. She's been tossing and turning. What do you expect? Her strength is failing. You should fly her to the Varden before the poison does any more damage," said Murtagh.

"I won't leave you two behind. Not with the Urgals so near," said Eragon determinedly.

"As you wish," said Murtagh, shrugging. "But I'm warning you, she won't live long if you stay with us."

"Don't say that," said Eragon, sitting up successfully in the saddle. "Help me save her. We can still do it. Consider it a life for a life...atonement for Torkenbrand's death." Murtagh glowered at him incredulously.

"It's not a debt owed. You--" He stopped as the sharp blow of a horn sounded through the trees. He glared back at Eragon. "I'll have more to say to you later," he said contemptuously, pointing a finger. He looked down. "Alycie. Alycie!" He bent down, shaking her. "I don't believe it. She's fallen asleep. Alycie!"

"Mneh!" objected the girl.

"Get up. I know you're tired, but we have to run," he said, pulling her roughly to her feet. She yanked her arm away, walking to Cadoc and taking his reins, shaking her head. Murtagh stomped after her, grabbing Snowfire and Tornac and running with them, Alycie by his side. Saphira took off, gliding above them. She flew away after a moment and they looked back to see her and Eragon dropping large boulders onto the Kull army.

They continued to run through the valley, their muscles screaming for them to stop. They eventually hopped onto the horses' saddles, galloping once more. Darkness enveloped them after a while, and they strained their eyes, looking for the waterfall that would end their fatigue. They kept their eyes open for the side valley through which they would escape both the Urgals and the Varden once the elf was delivered safely. So far there had been no luck in that search.

As blackness descended around them, they ran, leading the horses once again, out of the dense trees to find Saphira and Eragon waiting for them on the ground next to the Beartooth River. The waterfall rushed in the distance, pouring its endless contents into the river. They continued to run, passing Eragon, who joined them in their race. He took Snowfire's reins from Murtagh.

"We saw you dropping rocks with Saphira. Ambitious. Have the Kull stopped or turned back?"

"Did you kill them?" rasped Alycie, panting.

"No." Alycie cursed. "They're still behind us, but we're almost to the head of the valley. How's Arya?" asked Eragon.

"She hasn't died," grunted Murtagh. His anger seemed to be building once more. Alycie knew the reason. An escape had not been found. He spoke in a controlled voice of deathly calm, but his words shook with emotion. "Is there a valley or gorge ahead that we can leave through?" Eragon hesitated, panting, glancing sidelong at Murtagh's stony face.

"It's dark," he started, confirming Alycie's fears, "so I might have missed something, but...no."

The effect was immediate. Murtagh let out a loud curse, halting sharply and pulling Tornac's reins so that he stopped as well. Alycie froze, causing Cadoc to nearly drag her away. She tugged his reins, stopping him as well. Her wide eyes watched Murtagh apprehensively. Eragon seemed cautious as well, looking back at the furious man.

"Are you saying the only place I can go is to the Varden?"

"Yes, but keep running. The Urgals are almost upon us!" said Eragon hurriedly.

"No!" shouted Murtagh in rage. He pointed an accusing finger at the Rider threateningly. "I warned you that I wouldn't go to the Varden, but you went ahead and trapped me between a hammer and an anvil! You're the one with the elf's memories. Why didn't you tell me this was a dead end!?"

"All I knew was where we had to go, not what lay in between. Don't blame me for choosing to come!" retaliated Eragon. Murtagh hissed his breath through clenched teeth, swirling around and bowing over, his hands clutching his forehead in fury. Eragon was angry as well, placing his hands on his hips impatiently, his face red. Alycie looked from one to the other, eventually rounding on Murtagh.

"Come on, let's just go. The Kull are catching up," she exclaimed hurriedly.

"Oh it's alright for you to say!" snapped Murtagh. "You're in no danger with the Varden! You're just an innocent little--!" He let out a frustrated roar between his teeth.

"You're not either!" retorted Alycie. "We can negotiate with them!"

"No you can't! Not for me!" shouted Murtagh.

"What's your quarrel with the Varden? It can't be so terrible that you must keep it hidden even now. Would you rather fight the Kull than reveal it?" asked Eragon. "How many times must we go through this?"

"Can't you just tell us? Don't you trust him?" asked Alycie, pointing at Eragon. "Don't you trust me?" There was a long pause.

"Murtagh, unless you wish to die, we must go to the Varden. Don't let us walk into their arms without knowing how they will react to you. It's going to be dangerous enough without unnecessary surprises," said Eragon. Murtagh didn't move. He seemed to be preparing himself to do something. He slowly turned, breathing hard. He finally spoke in a tortured voice.

"You have a right to know. I...I am the son of Morzan, first and last of the Forsworn."

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	24. The Son and the Falls

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Yeah, didn't you love that cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter? I'm so evil :D**

** Nelarun: I didn't really think of what he would say, but I believe 'silly little girl' would be the proper one.**

**alsdssg: I sent you the definition, but a juggernaut is something or someone that crushes everything in its path and is nearly impossible to be stopped.  
**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Shock.

That is the only way to describe their reaction. A piercing silence followed Murtagh's confession as the information gradually sank in. Eragon's mouth hung slack in disbelief. Alycie stared, wide-eyed.

The infamous tales of Morzan, the Forsworn, and the Empire swirled in her head as if in a cyclone, making her feel light-headed and dizzy. _Morzan's son!_ Murtagh was the son of an evil, powerful, notorious Dragon Rider. He had been born the son of the Empire itself. This labeled him just as evil and oppressive. _Morzan's son!_ Murtagh was _Morzan's son!_ Alycie was in love with _Morzan's son!_

"N-no..." she managed to stutter after several throbbing minutes, her dry tongue sticking to the top of her mouth. Murtagh turned to her, the years of his agony shining through his pearl-gray eyes. Merely seeing his face like that broke her heart. He unconsciously held out a hand towards her wistfully, pleading.

There was a roar and Saphira crashed into the trees suddenly, snarling. She moved her foreleg strongly in front of Alycie, guarding her protectively. She bared her teeth as she stared Murtagh down threateningly. Eragon moved over to her, reaching for Zar'roc warily. Alycie tried to move past Saphira's leg, but the dragon growled ominously, looking back at her as she flicked her tail through the air like a cat ready to pounce.

"You are his heir?" asked Eragon cautiously. Alycie tried once more to step around Saphira's leg towards Murtagh, but Saphira let out a raging bark sharply, snapping her jaws. Alycie recoiled, eyes shining.

"I didn't choose this!" cried Murtagh in a voice ragged with pain. He tore at his clothes, ripping them from his torso in desperation. "Look!" he exclaimed, turning around sharply. Alycie put a hand to her mouth.

A scar, long, white, and knotted, extended from the top of Murtagh's right shoulder across his muscled back, ending in a point at his left hip. It stood out horribly against his tanned skin; a tribute to lifelong anguish.

"See that!?" shouted Murtagh bitterly. "I was only three when I got it. During one of his many drunken rages, Morzan threw his sword at me as I ran by. My back was laid open by the very sword you now carry; the only thing I expected to receive as inheritance, until Brom stole it from my father's corpse. I was lucky, I suppose. There was a healer nearby who kept me from dying. You must understand, I don't love the Empire or the king. I have no allegiance to them, nor do I mean you harm!"

Alycie darted quickly out from behind Saphira's leg, dodging the dragon's claws as she tried to hold her back. Eragon hurried forward, catching her wrist. She twisted out of his grip and flew into Murtagh's bare chest. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, feeling his do the same. She looked up at him.

"I'm not running," she said, her voice cracking. "I'm not screaming." Murtagh drew a shuddering breath, closing his eyes as he placed his lips upon her forehead. Alycie could feel the relief and gratitude loosening his muscles. Eragon let out an audible sigh, releasing the handle of his sword. He paused. Murtagh's eyes flicked up as comprehension dawned on the Rider's face.

"Then...your father...was...was killed by..."

"Yes, Brom." He picked up his tunic, pulling the cloth back on, hiding his scar from the world once more. He cradled Alycie against himself, calming as he rocked gently back and forth, holding her. A horn sounded, not so distant as before, jerking them back into the present situation. Eragon grabbed Snowfire's reins, looking warily at Murtagh.

"Come, run with me," he cried. Murtagh and Alycie separated, rushing to their horses and jogging after Eragon and Saphira. The dragon crushed her way through the dense trees and underbrush, shooting sidelong glares at Murtagh every few minutes warily. "Your tale is hard to believe. How do I know you aren't lying?"

"Why would I lie?" asked Murtagh.

"You could be--"

"I can't prove anything to you now. Keep your doubts until we reach the Varden. They'll recognize me quickly enough."

"I must know, do you serve the Empire?" asked Eragon.

"No. And if I did, what would I accomplish by traveling with you? If I were trying to capture or kill you, I would have left you in prison," said Murtagh hastily, hopping over a fallen log.

"You could be leading the Urgals to the Varden," said Eragon.

"Then why am I still with you? I know where the Varden are now. What reason could I have for delivering myself to them? If I were going to attack them, I'd turn around and join the Urgals."

"Maybe you're an assassin."

"Maybe. You can't really know, can you?" asked Murtagh.

"Or maybe he's telling the truth and he's _not_ serving the Empire!" said Alycie, looking at Eragon. "I trust him."

"Yes, but your judgment is clouded at present," said Eragon. He looked at Murtagh. "Mine will wait."

Alycie pushed through the low-hanging branches, cutting her cheek on a twig. She was thankful that she'd cut her hair when first joining with Eragon and Murtagh. Though it had grown, it did not catch on the tangled limbs and branches that blocked her path. She stumbled over a knobby root, bruising her forehead on a particularly thick limb that hung low in front of her.

At last they emerged onto the bank of the Beartooth River, facing the large, thundering waterfall. The lake of Kóstha-mérna stretched before them, filling the valley. A small strip of rocks made up a thin path between the lake's edge and the sheer rocky wall of the valley. At the end of the path, the falling water ran along the vertical black rocks, emptying into the lake.

"Is that it?" asked Alycie, not daring to believe it. Eragon nodded.

"Do we go to the falls?" asked Murtagh, his lips pursed.

"Yes," said Eragon, walking ahead to lead them.

They followed him carefully along the left bank of the lake, stumbling their way along the slick rocks that made up the path. Alycie glanced back over her shoulder as they reached halfway. The Kull stood at the edge of the forest and were beginning to file one at a time onto the thin path. At the command of their chief, half their number had split off from them and was running around the other side of the lake, trapping them.

"The Kull! They're catching up!" she warned. Both males spun to look.

"Run!" shouted Murtagh, smacking Snowfire's and Tornac's flanks. He drew his sword as they took off, sending Cadoc after them. Alycie quickly drew her blade as well. Next to them, Saphira suddenly rose into the sky, flying back towards the Kull despite a shout of protest from Eragon. The Rider drew Zar'roc, running with his companions.

Alycie's tired muscles screamed at her as they burned. Her feet slipped on the slime that covered the rocks, sending her off-balance, but she retained her footing, struggling to keep up with Murtagh and Eragon. The burst of adrenaline from spotting the Kull closing in on them increased her speed.

Behind them, Saphira plunged into the lake as she continued to hinder the Urgals' progress. She exploded from the depths, launching a new attack. Eragon stumbled, nearly falling, but Murtagh caught his arm quickly, supporting him as they ran. They reached the waterfall, struggling to see through the white mist that rose from the water.

"What do we do now!?" called Murtagh over the noise of the falls.

"I don't know! Let me think!" shouted Eragon. Alycie cursed, turning to watch as Saphira returned underwater and the Kull resumed their chase. She looked back anxiously to find Eragon holding a large stone, hitting it on the wall of the cliff. "_Aí varden abr du Shur'tugalar gata vanta!_" he yelled.

Nothing happened.

He repeated the phrase, shreiking it at the top of his lungs, striking the wall. Alycie turned back to the Kull's advance. She screamed. Murtagh and Eragon whirled around as Saphira emerged from the lake, roaring. The leader of the Kull was less than twenty meters away, running at Alycie with his spear held high.

Murtagh rushed forward, reeled his arm back over his shoulder and hurled his sword at high speed. The blade pierced though the Urgal's chest plate, bringing the monster to his knees with a choked gurgle. Murtagh quickly hurried to the beast, drawing his sword from the body before the other Urgals could attack. Eragon raised his hand, shouting something in the ancient language. An oncoming score of Urgals fell to the ground, shreiking in pain as shards of bone tore through the skin on their legs. A fresh wave of Kull ran over their brethren. Alycie turned sharply as a roar sounded next to her. A Kull towered over her like a small giant, raising a javelin to strike. Without thinking, she grasped her sword with both hands, driving the point into the Kull's neck. The monster dropped his javelin, trying to scream in pain past his ruined vocal cords. Alycie jerked the sword back, backing up towards Murtagh and Eragon.

The sound of stretching bows was audible a second before the swish of air as an unseen volley of arrows whistled towards them. They ducked to avoid them and Saphira rose into the air, deflecting the attack with her strong scales. Alycie cried out as her arm was hit, dropping her sword. Warm blood spread through her sleeve, staining it red. The Urgals let loose another volley.

"What now!?" shouted Murtagh. "We can't stay here!"

"I don't know! This is where we're supposed to be!" Eragon replied.

"Why don't you ask the elf to make sure!?" ordered Murtagh. He sheathed his sword, grabbing his bow and loosing an arrow into the monstrous attackers' ranks. Alycie picked her sword back up with her good hand, now stained with her own blood, and sheathed it. She tried to move the injured limb, but a shock of pain shot up into her shoulder, making her stop, teeth clenched. Her companions seemed not to have noticed she was hit.

"Now?" Eragon was yelling. "She's barely alive! How is she going to find the energy to say anything?"

"I don't _know_!" yelled Murtagh. "But you'd better think of _something_ because we can't stave off an entire army!" He let fly a few more arrows. Alycie was beginning to feel faint.

"Mur...Murta..." She struggled to speak past the weakness and pain, but the roar of the thundering falls drowned out her words. She sucked in her breath as her arm moved. "MURTAGH!"

"What is it!?" asked Murtagh, knocking another arrow. He looked over and stopped, swearing. "You're hit!" They ducked as another volley of arrows soared at them, then he crawled over to her, examining the wound. His hand grasped the long shaft of the arrow, snapping it off. Eragon suddenly shouted.

"The Varden are on the other side of the lake! We have to go through the waterfall!" he cried, sheathing Zar'roc. They looked at the thundering water that blocked their way.

"We'll never get the horses through there, even if we can hold our own footing!" said Murtagh. "And Alycie can't even do that! She's been hit!" Eragon glanced at her.

"I'll convince the horses to follow us. And Saphira can carry Arya. Alycie, I can't heal you here, but can you make it to the Varden?" He looked at her hopefully. She nodded, blinking as her vision clouded. The thought occurred to her that the Urgals laced their arrows with some sort of sedative. And dragons were less susceptible to it.

"It's better than being hacked to death," said Murtagh, hauling Alycie to her feet. Eragon cut Arya free, heaving her onto Saphira's saddle. The great dragon took off, deflecting another volley of arrows. Tornac, Cadoc, and Snowfire suddenly dashed into the water. "You go first!" said Murtagh. "I'll look after you!" Alycie nodded, kissing him briefly, and jumping into the pounding water.

She immediately felt the hammering water on her arm, nearly stunning her with pain. Her knees hit something hard and she opened her eyes to find that she had been driven to the bottom. Flashes of a similar lake flickered through her mind. She could swim. Very well, in fact. She had done so for years in Leona Lake. What was she doing, letting herself be overpowered by mere water?

Alycie kicked off of the rocks, shooting to the surface, her body straight as an arrow. Her head broke the surface and she kicked, holding her bleeding arm with the other. Her sword weighted her down, but she continued to kick with determination, battling the strong sense of fatigue that the sedative had induced. She lifted her head for breath. The shore was close now. The freezing water rushed past as her legs moved quickly, propelling her forward.

A hand caught the back of her tunic, pulling her up from the water, gasping. Alycie felt the ground drag underneath her as the hand tugged her upright, nearly choking her. She gained her footing, holding her arm and shaking her sopping hair out of her eyes. From what she could see, the Kull were not far away, but they weren't advancing. Alycie squinted. A continuous shower of arrows was falling on the Urgals from the cliff wall, keeping them at bay.

Pain suddenly erupted through her arm and she cried out as the man holding her pulled her wrists behind her back. She turned her head to try and see him. Cold metal pressed against her neck, halting her motion. A deep, threatening voice spoke in her ear.

"Don't speak. Don't fight. Follow," it said shortly. The blade pressed in on her skin to make his meaning clear. Alycie bit her lip against the pain as the man twisted her hurt arm, pressing against her back.

He turned her, leading her towards the rock wall of the cliff. Her eyes widened. Two, twelve-foot thick, stone slabs had moved aside to reveal the entrance to a large tunnel about 30 feet tall that seemed to go straight into the colossal mountain itself. They stopped at the entrance, turning back towards the lake.

Alycie watched as Murtagh crawled out onto the bank, gasping. He looked back at the subdued Kull, his face turning until his eyes settled on Alycie. He started towards her, but the man holding her pressed harder on the blade on her neck.

"Stop! One more step and slit your lovely little friend's neck," he said. Murtagh stopped, his eyes wide and worried. Saphira suddenly appeared in the sky. Her eyes hardened as she saw the situation and she growled.

"Saphira! Stay back!" Murtagh yelled up at her. She looked at him, and then landed, keeping her eyes on Alycie's captor. Murtagh looked back at him. "We come with the Rider! We mean no harm! We are just--"

"Silence! You speak one more word," The blade pressed even harder into Alycie's skin. "...and she dies."

Murtagh closed his mouth. Helmeted men surrounded him, grabbing his arms and leading him to the tunnel entrance as well. One man led the three horses, while several surrounded Saphira, who growled menacingly at them. A minute later, Eragon, lead by what Alycie perceived to be a dwarf, joined them. His eyes widened when he saw the knife. The man spoke sharply once more.

"Stop! If you use magic, I'll kill the girl and your friend here, who was so kind as to mention you're a Rider. Don't think I won't know if you're drawing upon it. You can't hide anything from me," he said. Eragon opened his mouth, but the man interrupted him once more. "None of that! If you say or do anything I don't tell you to, she will die. Now, everyone inside."

Alycie felt a tug on her hands and she backed up into the dark tunnel. The guards let go of Murtagh, merely walking next to him and Saphira. Eragon joined them, the dwarf joining the rest of the warriors. The twin doors swung back into place with nigh a sound, sealing them into the mountain.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	25. The Varden and the Past

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**ALRIGHT 200!!! THANK YOU ALL!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

The tunnel glowed with a sapphire light generated by the strange, fireless lamps that lined the rough, rock walls. Alycie felt her legs tiring. The sedative was still coursing through her slowly, draining her strength. She looked up, her eyes meeting Murtagh's concerned gaze. She moved slightly and the knife tightened once again in response.

"This way," ordered her captor, backing through an archway, pulling Alycie along with him. The others followed silently. Alycie vaguely noticed the warriors' intent gazes on Eragon and Saphira. Tornac, Cadoc, and Snowfire continued down the tunnel passage, lead by two helmeted men. They edged down the narrow corridor, turning first right, and then left, then right once more into a massive, windowless marble room. The door closed behind them with an echoing boom followed by the sharp noise of a latch locking in place.

"There's an injured--" started Eragon, but the man holding Alycie cut him off.

"Do not speak! It must wait until you have been tested," he said. He removed the knife from Alycie's throat, pushing her into the waiting hands of a guard. She hissed in pain as he twisted her arms, holding his blade to her throat. She looked back at her original captor, looking him over properly. He was unusually tall, with a shining, bald head and a beardless face, wearing long purple and gold robes that added to his commanding air. He touched his fingertips together, regarding Eragon and Murtagh. "Remove your weapons and slide them to me," he said.

A dwarf warrior next to Alycie removed her sword, sliding it to the bald man. Eragon and Murtagh dropped their bows, quivers, Zar'roc, and the hand-and-a-half sword, stepping forward and dropping them into a pile. Alycie shifted her weight, and then froze. She had forgotten the small dagger that resided in her boot. It was there, pressing lightly against her ankle. The bald man spoke to Eragon.

"Now step up away from your dragon and slowly approach me," he said. Eragon complied. He walked towards the bald man slowly. "Stop there! Now remove the defenses from around your mind and prepare to let me inspect your thoughts and memories. If you try to hide anything from me, I will take what I want by force...which would drive you mad. If you don't submit, your companion will be killed." Alycie's eyes flicked to Murtagh.

"Why!?" exclaimed Eragon.

"To be sure you aren't in Galbatorix's service and to understand why hundreds of Urgals are banging on our front door," replied the man. "No one may enter Farthen Dûr without being inspected."

"There isn't time. We need a healer!" insisted Eragon.

"Silence!" shouted the bald man. "Until you are examined, your words are meaningless!"

"But she's dying!" Eragon persisted, pointing at Arya, who lay limply on Saphira's back. Alycie felt the sword increase pressure on her neck and she squirmed slightly. Eragon was going to get her killed if he kept this up.

"It will have to wait! No one will leave this room until we have discovered the truth of this matter. Unless you wish--"

"Are you blind, Egraz Carn?" exclaimed the dwarf that had escorted Eragon from the lake. "Can't you see that's an elf on the dragon? We cannot keep her here if she's in danger. Ajihad and the king will have our heads if she's allowed to die!" The bald man scrutinized him. A moment later, his features grew smooth once more.

"Of course, Orik, we wouldn't want that to happen," he said, snapping his fingers. "Remove her from the dragon. Quickly, quickly!" The warriors hesitantly approached Saphira, unstrapping Arya from the saddle. They lowered her to the floor when one of the men gasped.

"It's the dragon-egg courier, Arya!" he exclaimed in astonishment. The bald man rounded on him.

"What?" he said sharply. Alycie saw Orik's eyes widen in surprise. The bald man turned to Eragon coldly. "You have much explaining to do."

"She was poisoned with the Skilna Bragh while in prison," said Eragon strongly, returning the man's gaze with just as much intensity. "Only Tunivor's Nectar can save her now."

"Very well. Take her to the healers, and tell them what she needs. Guard her until the ceremony is completed. I will have new orders for you by then," said the bald man. The guards nodded, carrying Arya out of the room. The bald man continued. "Enough of this, we have wasted too much time already. Prepare to be examined." Eragon stood still, staring at the bald man. Alycie looked at Murtagh, then back at Eragon, helpless to do anything. After a moment, the Rider opened his mouth.

"I am ready," he said, bowing his head. The bald man raised his head slightly in victory.

"Good, then--"

"You'd better not harm him, Egraz Carn, else the king will have words for you," interjected Orik the dwarf. The bald man rolled his eyes at him. The corners of his mouth twitched in a small smile as he looked back at Eragon.

"Only if he resists," he said smoothly, bowing his head.

Alycie winced as Eragon gasped, his eyes rolling back into his head, revealing the whites. He shuddered violently several times, a choking noise emitting from the back of his throat. Murtagh was watching the bald man warily, his fists clenched. Minutes passed like this. The Rider's face grew red and his neck muscles bulged. His fists clenched so hard that the knuckles turned white. At long last the bald man raised his head. Eragon seemed to come to himself as his muscles relaxed. He shook, swaying, and collapsed. A warrior rushed forward, catching him quickly and lowering him slowly to the marble.

"You went too far! He wasn't strong enough for this!" shouted Orik.

"He'll live. That's all that is needed," replied the bald man.

"What did you find?" asked the dwarf. The man didn't answer. "Well, is he to be trusted or not?"

"He...is not your enemy..." said the bald man reluctantly. The guards backed out of the middle of the room as Eragon recovered, standing. Orik steadied him with a hand as he swayed slightly.

"Easy now." He turned to Murtagh. "It's your turn now." Alycie quickly summoned her strength and twisted in the soldier's grip. She lifted her foot and drove the heel into his toes. He cursed, twisting her arm harder. She cried out sharply. The bald man turned his attention to her.

"Enough!" he barked at her. The warrior holding her pressed the blade into her skin with a firmer grip. She stopped struggling, staring at the bald man. He walked slowly over to her, gazing into her eyes piercingly. "Why don't we see just what's on _your_ mind?"

_'Saphira! Saphira help me!'_ Alycie thought frantically. _'Eragon! Somebody!'_ She braced herself for the pain. The bald man bowed his head.

It seemed as if one of the Kull were driving a javelin into her head. The pain she had experienced in Gil'ead returned with full force, jabbing through her skull. She tried to remember Eragon's short lesson, finding a point on the wall and focusing on it. The probe hesitated, then shattered the weak block as though it were a thin pane of glass. She jammed her eyes shut as they rolled backwards. Memories once again flashed through her mind. Dras-Leona. Garrick. The palace. Then they became more recent. Gil'ead. The Ramr. The Hadarac. He was drawing closer to Murtagh's confession. Alycie tried once more to block him, but he smashed the resistance down once again, sapping her strength.

A warm presence, quite unlike the hammering probe, made its way into her mind then. It wrapped itself around almost every recent memory of Murtagh, hiding their romance and his secret. The pain didn't lessen, however. The pain would rush on in a throbbing wave, gradually recede somewhat, then rush back on in a fresh wave every few seconds. Minutes passed like this. Alycie shook violently, biting her lip until it bled. The probe lingered agonizingly on the memory of the Gil'ead prison and the figure in the Hadarac, as well as the Ra'zac's first attack.

Then, with a particularly strong wave of pain, Alycie felt the probe scramble like a spider to the back of her mind, digging into something. A light blankness erupted through her head, making her all but forget about the pain. She felt outside herself, floating. Then another wave struck, returning her to her present state. A sharp shudder coursed down her body as the blankness receded. The probe examined a few more things, and then extracted itself.

Alycie let out her breath in a ragged sigh, her knees giving way beneath her. The warrior supported her as her strength returned slowly. She opened her eyes groggily, looking at Murtagh. He seemed to be using all of his resolve to stay where he was. A drop of blood fell, staining the marble below. In her writhing pain, she had cut it on the blade by her skin. The warm presence had vanished from her mind, but the blankness remained in a small cloud, waiting to be used. She looked at Orik, then at the bald man.

"Is she dangerous?" the dwarf asked impatiently.

"She has the ability to use magic," said the bald man. A silence followed this as Eragon and Murtagh looked at Alycie. She looked from one to the other in alarm.

"No...no I can't," she protested to the bald man.

"You can't hide anything, girl. Don't lie," said Orik in a firm voice.

"But I can't...I couldn't..." continued Alycie in confusion.

"But is she our enemy?" asked Orik. The bald man shook his head.

"No," he said. "But it does make her dangerous."

"I swear to you," Alycie persisted. "I can't use _magic_!"

"Silence, girl!" commanded the bald man. "You will be questioned on this later." He turned to Murtagh. "Your turn now." Murtagh stiffened, shaking his head.

"No."

"You will not be protected here if you refuse," said Orik.

"Eragon has been declared trustworthy. So has Alycie. You cannot threaten to kill either of them to influence me. Since you can't do that, nothing you say or do will convince me to open my mind," said Murtagh.

"What of your own life? I can still threaten that," said the bald man ominously.

"It won't do any good," said Murtagh coldly. Nobody doubted him.

"You don't have a choice!" exploded the bald man, walking deliberately to Murtagh and pressing his palm to his forehead forcibly. Murtagh's body seized up immediately, his teeth clenching, muscles bulging in protest. The bald man hissed in fury, his fingertips clawing into Murtagh's skin.

"Stop it!" yelled Alycie. "Leave him alone!" The blankness suddenly erupted once again in her mind. The dagger slipped out of her boot in a flash, shooting past the bald man's head. It imbedded itself in the marble wall with considerable force, missing the man's ear by a hairsbreadth. The man removed his hand from Murtagh, rounding on her.

"Do you see!?" he cried. "The girl is a danger!" He lifted his hand, pointing it at her, but the dwarf, Orik, stepped forward and pushed him away with force one would not expect from a person his size.

"That is enough!" he cried. The bald man whirled around to face him in fury.

"How dare you! You questioned my leadership, opened the gates without permission, and now this! You've shown nothing but insolence and treachery. Do you think your king will protect you now!?" he cried.

"You would have let them die! If I had waited any longer, the Urgals would have killed them," retorted the dwarf. He pointed at Murtagh, who was panting heavily. "We don't have any right to torture him for information! Ajihad won't sanction it. Nor can you punish the girl for having magic she claims she wasn't even aware of; nor, it seems, can she control it. Not after you've examined the Rider and found him free of fault. _And_ they've brought us Arya."

"Would you allow him to enter unchallenged? Are you so great a fool as to put us all at risk?" raged the bald man. "Or what about the girl? Would you let an unknown magic user just waltz in and take up residence?"

"Can the boy use magic?" demanded Orik.

"That is--"

"Can he use magic!?" The bald man put his hands behind his back.

"No."

"And does the girl mean us harm?"

"...No."

"Then what do you fear? It's impossible for the boy to escape, and he can't work any devilry with all of us here, especially if your powers are as great as you say. And if _she_ means us no harm, then why raise a complaint? But don't listen to me; ask Ajihad what he wants done." The bald man looked at Orik, then at the ceiling, muttering to himself, eyes closed. He looked at the warriors piercingly.

"Leave, now!" he commanded. They complied. The warrior holding Alycie lowered his blade and let her hands free. He joined the throng filing out of the door, but before he left Alycie's side, she could have sworn she heard him apologize briefly in a low, hurried voice. The bald man followed them, pausing to speak to Eragon. "Because I was unable to complete my examination, you, the girl, and...your friend will remain here for the night. He will be killed if he attempts to leave." He swept out of the room in a whirl of gold and purple.

"Thank you," Eragon whispered to the dwarf as he passed.

"I'll make sure some food is brought," grunted Orik, closing the door. The latch slid into place once more, and they were alone.

All three sank to the floor at once. Eragon looked drowsily at Murtagh, who was staring at the floor with an empty gaze, looking lost. Alycie stared at the knife, still in the marble wall. It seemed impossible that she had done that. She wiped her bleeding neck on her sleeve, turning her attention to the arrowhead still lodged in her right arm. She remembered Saphira's arrow in the woods in Gil'ead and how they had extracted it. Ripping off a piece of cloth from her tunic, she jammed it between her teeth, rolling up her sleeve to examine the wound. Dark blood stained her entire arm. She found what was left of the shaft poking through her torn skin and grasped it, preparing herself. With a muffled shriek of pain, she jerked the head out, causing a new flow of blood. Murtagh crawled over silently, ripping his own tunic. He took her arm gently and wrapped the strip of cloth around the bleeding wound, stemming the flow. Alycie removed the cloth from her mouth, using it to mop up her neck. Eragon looked at Murtagh.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Murtagh nodded jerkily. "Did he get anything from you?"

"No," said Murtagh.

"How were you able to keep him out? He's so strong."

"I've...I've been well trained," muttered Murtagh bitterly. They fell into silence. Alycie pulled her knees into her chest, setting her chin on them as she stared at the knife still. Murtagh was looking into the corners, lost in thought.

"I didn't let them know who you are," said Eragon suddenly. Murtagh sighed in relief.

"Thank you for not betraying me," he said. "But didn't they read Alycie's--"

"I had Saphira block them for her," said Eragon. "He would have recognized my presence." Murtagh nodded gratefully. Alycie didn't speak, still staring at the knife with wide eyes. Eragon continued. "They didn't recognize you."

"No."

"And you still say that you are Morzan's son?" Alycie twitched.

"Yes," sighed Murtagh. Eragon stood, seeing the blood that dripped from Saphira's wings. He moved along them, saying the ancient words of healing. Alycie's eyes flicked to him, watching. He healed them all, slumping to the floor next to the dragon in exhaustion.

"So, Alycie, it seems you can use magic," he said. Alycie buried her face in her knees, wrapping her arms around them tightly. Murtagh looked at her.

"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked.

"She didn't know, Murtagh," said Eragon. "I didn't even know, and I've read her mind."

"How can you not know?" asked Murtagh.

"I didn't...I can't use magic," denied Alycie in a muffled voice.

"You _did_," said Eragon, pointing at the knife in the marble wall. "There's no use denying it." Alycie looked up at it, frightened.

"I didn't...didn't mean to..." she said. "I didn't know, I swear!" Murtagh placed an arm around her shoulders soothingly.

"We believe you," he said, kissing her cheek. "And thank you for stopping him." Alycie wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He sighed, touching lightly where her neck had been cut. She looked up at him.

"They were going to use me to get into your mind," she said. "I had to distract them somehow to examine me first." Murtagh kissed her on the top of the head.

"Thank you again," he said. Alycie smiled into his tunic.

"I hope they bring food soon," she mumbled. Murtagh laughed. Eragon was staring at him expressionlessly.

"Why are you here?" he asked. Murtagh looked up.

"What?"

"If you really are Morzan's son, Galbatorix wouldn't let you wander around Alagaësia freely. How is it that you managed to find the Ra'zac by yourself? Why is it I've never heard of any of the Forsworn having children? And what are you doing here?" he shouted. Murtagh sighed, pushing his bangs back off of his head.

"It's a long story," he said.

"We're not going anywhere," said Eragon, eyes narrow.

"It's too late to talk," said Murtagh.

"There probably won't be time for it tomorrow."

"It's better to get it off your chest now while you have the chance," said Alycie. Murtagh sighed, sliding back to lean against the wall. Alycie crawled after him, laying her head on his chest once more. He twisted his fingers through her hair, staring at the floor.

"It's not a--" He stopped, then spoke again. "I don't want to stop...so make yourself comfortable. My story will take a while." He took a deep breath. "As far as I know...I am the only child of the Thirteen Servants, or the Forsworn as they're called. There may be others, for the Thirteen had the skill to hide whatever they wanted, but I doubt it, for reasons I'll explain later. My parents met in a small village...I never learned where...while my father was traveling on the king's business. Morzan showed my mother some small kindness, no doubt a ploy to gain her confidence, and when he left, she accompanied him. They traveled together for a time, and as is the nature of these things, she fell deeply in love with him."

Alycie blinked. This story was familiar. It was hers. They had met outside a village while he had been tracking the king's servants. He had showed her kindness by helping while she was sick and they had traveled together. And she was in love with him. A son of the Empire in a romance with an unknown girl from a common town. The resemblance was scary.

"Morzan was delighted to discover this not only because it gave him numerous opportunities to torment her but also because he recognized the advantage of having a servant who wouldn't betray him," Murtagh continued. "Thus, when Morzan returned to Galbatorix's court, my mother became the tool he relied upon most. He used her to carry his secret messages, and he taught her rudimentary magic, which helped her remain undiscovered and, on occasion, extract information from people. He did his best to protect her from the rest of the Thirteen...not out of any feelings for her, but because they would have used her against him, given the chance. For three years things proceeded in this manner, until my mother became pregnant."

He paused, continuing to twirl Alycie's hair around his fingers in his daze. Eragon and Saphira were looking at them intently, listening. Alycie looked up at him and he continued.

"My father was, if nothing else, a cunning man. He knew that the pregnancy put both him and my mother in danger, not to mention the baby...that is, me. So, in the dead of night, he spirited her away from the palace and took her to his castle. Once there, he laid down powerful spells that prevented anyone from entering his estate except for a few chosen servants. In this way the pregnancy was kept secret from everyone but Galbatorix. Galbatorix new the intimate details of the Thirteen's lives: their plots, their fights, and, most importantly, their thoughts. He enjoyed watching them battle each other and often helped one or the other for his own amusement. But for some reason he never revealed my existence.

"I was born in due time and given to a wet nurse so my mother could return to Morzan's side. She had no choice in the matter. Morzan allowed her to visit me every few months, but otherwise we were kept apart. Another three years passed like this, during which time he gave me the...scar on my back." He hesitated grudgingly before continuing.

"I would have grown to manhood in this fashion if Morzan hadn't been summoned away to hunt for Saphira's egg. As soon as he departed, my mother, who had been left behind, vanished. No one knows where she went, or why. The king tried to hunt her down, but his men couldn't find her trail...no doubt because of Morzan's training. At the time of my birth, only five of the Thirteen were still alive. By the time Morzan left, that number had been reduced to three; when he finally faced Brom in Gil'ead, he was the only one remaining. The Forsworn died through various means: suicide, ambush, overuse of magic...but it was mostly the work of the Varden. I'm told that the king was in a terrible rage because of those losses.

"However, before word of Morzan's and the others' deaths reached us, my mother returned. Many months had passed since she had disappeared. Her health was poor, as if she had suffered a great illness, and she grew steadily worse. Within a fortnight, she died."

"What happened then?" asked Eragon eagerly.

"I grew up," said Murtagh with a shrug. "The king brought me to the palace and arranged for my upbringing. Aside from that, he left me alone."

"Then why did you leave?" asked Eragon. Murtagh laughed coldly.

"Escaped is more like it. At my last birthday, when I turned eighteen, the king summoned me to his quarters for a private dinner. The message surprised me because I had always distanced myself from the court and had rarely met him. We'd talked before, but always within earshot of eavesdropping nobles."

It reminded Alycie all too much of the mayor's palace back in Dras-Leona. Nobles sneaking around, trying to listen in on others' conversations. Of course they were nowhere near as skilled as eavesdropping as the servants had been.

"I accepted the offer, of course, aware that it would be unwise to refuse. The meal was sumptuous, but throughout it his black eyes never left me. His gaze was disconcerting; it seemed that he was searching for something hidden in my face. I didn't know what to make of it and did my best to provide polite conversation, but he refused to talk, and I soon ceased my efforts. When the meal was finished, he finally began to speak. You've never heard his voice, so it's hard for me to make you understand what it was like. His words were entrancing, like a snake whispering gilded lies into my ears. A more convincing and frightening man I've never heard. He wove a vision: a fantasy of the Empire as he imagined it. There would be beautiful cities built across the country, filled with the greatest warriors, artisans, musicians, and philosophers. The Urgals would finally be eradicated. And the Empire would expand in every direction until it reached the four corners of Alagaësia. Peace and prosperity would flourish, but more wondrous yet, the Riders would be brought back to gently govern over Galbatorix's fiefdoms.

"Entranced, I listened to him for what must have been hours. When he stopped, I eagerly asked how the Riders would be reinstated, for everyone knew there were no dragon eggs left. Galbatorix grew still then and stared at me thoughtfully. For a long time he was silent, but then he extended his hand and asked, 'Will you, O son of my friend, serve me as I labor to bring about this paradise?'

"Though I knew the history behind his and my father's rise to power, the dream he had painted for me was too compelling, too seductive to ignore. Ardor for this mission filled me, and I fervently pledged myself to him. Obviously pleased, Galbatorix gave me his blessing, then dismissed me, saying, 'I shall call upon you when the need arises.'"

Alycie didn't move, finding her feelings suddenly violently conflicted. The fingers that so lovingly stroked her hair in comfort now seemed as much an enemy's as her love's. What he was telling them now seemed too dark to be true. The Murtagh they...the Murtagh she knew would never have pledged his services to Galbatorix. He never would have eagerly accepted his blessing. Yet he had. And here she was lying against him, his completely in body and mind. She suddenly wondered if this was how his mother had felt, entranced by a Forsworn...

"Several months passed before he did," Murtagh was saying. "When the summons came, I felt all of my old excitement return. We met in private as before, but this time he was not pleasant or charming. The Varden had just destroyed three brigades in the south, and his wrath was out in full force. He charged me in a terrible voice to take a detachment of troops and destroy Cantos, where rebels were known to hide occasionally. When I asked what we should do with the people there and how we would know if they were guilty, he shouted, 'They're all traitors! Burn them at the stake and bury their ashes with dung!' He continued to rant, cursing his enemies and describing how he would scourge the land of everyone who bore him ill will. His tone was so different from what I had encountered before; it made me realize he didn't possess the mercy or foresight to gain the people's loyalty, and he ruled only through brute force guided by his own passions. It was at that moment I determined to escape him and Urû'baen forever.

"As soon as I was free of his presence, I and my faithful servant, Tornac, made ready for flight. We left that very night, but somehow Galbatorix anticipated my actions, for there were soldiers waiting for us outside the gates. Ah, my sword was bloody, flashing in the dim lantern glow. We defeated the men...but in the process Tornac was killed."

He hesitated, letting out a sad sigh.

"Alone and filled with grief, I fled to an old friend who sheltered me in his estate. While I hid, I listened carefully to every rumor, trying to predict Galbatorix's actions and plan my future. During that time, talk reached me that the Ra'zac had been sent to capture or kill someone. Remembering the king's plans for the Riders, I decided to find and follow the Ra'zac, just in case they did discover a dragon. And that's how I found you...I have no more secrets."

"So why don't you join the Varden?" asked Eragon after a moment. "They'll distrust you for a time, but once you prove your loyalty they'll treat you with respect. And aren't they in a sense your allies? They strive to end the king's reign. Isn't that what you want?"

"Must I spell everything out for you?" said Murtagh angrily. "I don't want Galbatorix to learn where I am, which is inevitable if people start saying that I've sided with his enemies, which I've never done. These...these _rebels_," he spat, "are trying not only to overthrow the king but to destroy the empire...and I don't want that to happen. it would sow mayhem and anarchy. The king is flawed, yes, but the system itself is sound. As for earning the Varden's respect: Ha! Once I am exposed, they'll treat me like a criminal or worse. Not only that, suspicion will fall upon you because we traveled together!" He looked down at Alycie. "That goes double for you, considering we're an item."

"It isn't that bad," said Eragon. Murtagh snorted, turning away. "I'm sure that they won't be--" The door opened suddenly. Two wooden bowls full of food slid through the opening and it shut quickly.

"Finally!" said Murtagh.

Alycie got off of him and he got up, walking to the bowls. Inside lay a raw chunk of meat and a loaf of bread. He tossed the meat to Saphira, who chomped it out of the air in one bite, and tore the bread into pieces, tossing one to Eragon. He walked back over to Alycie, handing her the other piece. She looked at the floor uncomfortably as he leaned against the wall, sliding down next to her.

"Alycie..." he said. She looked at him. "You don't..." He broke off, but his eyes told the meaning. She paused, then leaned up and kissed him lightly on the lips. He remained uneasy, but nodded, returning to his bread. Alycie stared at hers with no appetite.

"You can have this," she said, handing it to Murtagh, who looked at her quizzically. "I'm going to sleep."

She reluctantly crawled a few feet away from Murtagh and lay down, resting her head on her arms. As she closed her eyes, the sleepless nights, fatigue from endless travel, stress from fighting, and the remains of the Urgals' sedative hit her all at once like a wall, sending her immediately to sleep.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	26. The City and the Leader

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**FINALLY! School's been murder. Rehearsals a bunch too.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Alycie stirred, opening her eyes blearily and peering around the marble room. Saphira yawned in a corner and Eragon and Murtagh were sitting side by side against the wall facing her. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes.

"Has baldy returned?" she asked. Murtagh cracked and shook his head.

"No." Alycie crawled over to them, sitting up by Murtagh. Her stomach grumbled. Murtagh held out a hunk of bread. "I believe this is yours?" She took it gratefully.

"I thought you would have eaten it," she said. She tore off a large piece with her teeth ravenously.

"I knew you would want it later," said Murtagh, his smile fading. "Finding that you've unknowingly befriended a monster for months does cause one to lose their appetite." Alycie's insides squirmed with pity mixed with guilt. She swallowed and looked at him with earnest blue eyes.

"If I reacted badly last night," she began, "I swear I didn't mean it. I don't care what you've done in your past or whose blood runs in your veins. I won't blame you for your father's doings. But I want you to answer me truthfully." She took a deep breath. "Are you toying with my affection for loyalty or for love?" Murtagh understood what she was referring to.

"Undeniably love," he said. "I am not my _father_."

"I know, but I needed to hear you say it," said Alycie, kissing him.

She stood, walking to the knife that still protruded several inches from the wall. She grasped the hilt, tugging. It didn't budge. Bracing her feet on the wall, Alycie grasped the dagger with both hands, pulling with all her might. The weapon remained unfazed. Eragon stood, walking over.

"_Knífr reisa_," he said. The knife moved upward through the marble as if it were mere water, pulling itself out and floating down to Alycie, who took it, replacing it in her boot.

"Thank you," she said.

"Now that you know of your magical ability," said Eragon, "I suggest you find a teacher amongst the Varden." Alycie frowned, crossing her arms.

"And what if I don't want a magical ability?" she asked. "It's convenient, there's no denying, but so far it's caused me nothing but trouble."

"Now that it's been accessed, you can't just forget it and go back to being normal," said Eragon.

"_I_ can," said Alycie. "I'll just shove it back down where it came from and never think of it again."

"It doesn't work like that, Alycie," said Eragon in frustration. "You just--" The door opened suddenly, cutting him off mid-sentence. In stepped twelve warriors, Orik, and the bald man. The warriors hesitated, setting eyes on Saphira.

"You have been summoned to Ajihad, leader of the Varden. If you must eat, do so while we march," declared the bald man. Alycie glanced at Eragon before walking to Murtagh. He stood up, watching the bald man warily. Eragon spoke.

"Where are our horses? And can I have my sword and bow back?"

"Your weapons will be returned to you when Ajihad sees fit, not before. As for your horses, they await you in the tunnel. Now come!" commanded the bald man.

"How is Arya?" rushed Eragon. The bald man paused disdainfully.

"I do not know. The healers are still with her." He turned, walking with Orik out of the room. One of the warriors looked at Eragon.

"You go first," he said, motioning with his hand. Alycie recognized him as the guard who had held the blade to her neck the night before. Eragon walked through the door. Saphira followed him. "You next," said the warrior. Alycie started forward, feeling Murtagh close behind her. "Watch your step." Alycie shot the young warrior an odd look as she followed the dragon into the stone hallway. Glancing back, she saw Murtagh glaring warningly at the helmeted man, quickening his steps to remain close to Alycie.

They walked single file along the curving hallway, passing a statue of an unfamiliar animal sporting quills. Alycie couldn't recall setting eyes on it the night before, but she dismissed it. They reached the large tunnel they had first been brought to by the waterfall. The bald man stood in the center, next to Orik. The dwarf held the reins of their horses.

"You will ride single file down the center of the tunnel," snapped the bald man. "If you attempt to go anywhere else, you will be stopped." Eragon began to climb into Saphira's saddle. "No! Ride your horse until I tell you otherwise," ordered the bald man. Eragon backed down to the tunnel floor, pulling himself into Snowfire's saddle instead. Alycie mounted Cadoc, seeing Murtagh mount Tornac behind her protectively. The warriors divided their numbers, surrounding the short line. Alycie noted that the familiar guard positioned himself a few feet to her left, riding his steed a little ways ahead of her. She tried to ignore him as the bald man ordered they march.

They rode in silence for several minutes, looking around at the odd, blue lamps or at the well-crafted walls of the tunnel. Alycie remained bothered by the ever-present blankness in the back of her mind. After a time, curiosity overwhelmed her, pressured by boredom, and she prodded at it. A strange, floating sensation filled her as she felt her consciousness expand.

Panicking, she withdrew from the magic, shaking her head to bring herself back to reality. After several more tedious minutes, however, the curiosity returned. Alycie hesitated, and then delved into the magic blankness. Keeping her wits about her despite the sensation, she realized the blankness acted as a kind of hole through which her consciousness could escape and wander.

Tempted, she allowed her mentality to seep through slowly. So this was how Eragon read minds. His would be the first to visit; not as a forced probe, but merely a visitor. She focused on the Rider, slowly prodding his consciousness with hers.

_'Eragon?'_ She heard Saphira snort slightly, then tried again. _'Eragon?'_

_'Who are you?'_ answered a voice in her head. She hesitated before answering; it felt so strange.

_'Alycie,'_ she sent. A clod of questions hit her mind at once.

'_What are you doing in my head? How did you learn to do this so fast? I thought you didn't like magic.'_

_'I'm experimenting,'_ she answered. _'Could I talk with Saphira?'_ A trickle of excitement buzzed through the connection before she could stop it. She felt Eragon's smugness briefly, before regret.

_'No,'_ he replied. _'It's considered rude to speak with another's dragon. Sorry.'_ Alycie withdrew from his mind, breaking the connection. She moved to the horse behind her. What was Murtagh thinking? She reached out.

Her mind met a thick, solid wall. She felt all around it for entry, but found none. No wonder the bald man had been unable to breech his mind. Breaking into Murtagh's mind seemed as impossible as breaking into Galbatorix's bedroom in Urû'baen itself. She withdrew back to her own mind, her comfort returning at being back in her familiar environment.

They walked for nigh an hour on a straight path down the center of the tunnel. Several times Alycie nearly fell asleep in the saddle, shocking out of her doze not a second before Cadoc began straying from the line. At long last, a white light became visible at the end of the tunnel. It increased in size as they approached, brightening considerably. Marble pillars covered in amethysts and rubies now lined the walls. The blue light now glowed brighter than ever from hundreds of the glowing lanterns strung between the pillars. Shining golden threads were strung around the bases of the columns, shining. Around the ceiling arched towards the center were raven heads carved into the stone mid-screech. Alycie glanced around Saphira, seeing two gigantic ebony doors matching the ones at the entrance by the waterfall in size. Spun silver webbed in the image of a majestic crown spread across both doors. The bald man halted, stopping the line with a raised hand.

"You will ride upon your dragon now. Do not attempt to fly away. There will be people watching, so remember who and what you are." Eragon climbed into Saphira's saddle, handing off Snowfire's reins to a warrior.

"I'm ready," he said confidently.

"God," said the bald man. "Now walk to the doors and, once they open, follow the path. Go slowly."

Sunlight blinded them as they walked through the doors. Alycie held a hand to her eyes as she peered through the light. Her jaw dropped.

A marble city larger even that Urû'baen spread before them at the center of what seemed to be a colossal volcanic crater. The walls of the mountain rose to a height that no human could possibly climb to. Her eyes lowered, taking in the lichens and greenery that covered the rocky crater walls nearest the ground. The doors had allowed them onto a wide cobblestone road that lead to the white mountain of a city in front of them.

Alycie was suddenly aware of the crowds surrounding the street. Dwarves and humans alike stood around them, looking up at Saphira and Eragon in awe. Alycie turned in the saddle, curious for Murtagh's reaction to the magnificence of the mountainous civilization. He had his head bowed, avoiding the staring eyes of the people. He glanced up at her briefly, face pale. Alycie nodded to him confidently before turning back around. Walking in plain sight of this many staring Varden probably had him anxiously waiting for just one of them, anyone, to point up at him and shout out his secret

As a lone cough echoed over the heads of the crowd, Alycie became aware of the awkward silence they were in. The staring people said not a word. Alycie could suddenly feel the hundreds of judging eyes on her skin. She bit her lip apprehensively, waiting for something to happen. She could see Eragon sitting rigidly in Saphira's saddle. He raised his hand into the air, waved it stiffly, and then jerked it back down. She could see the back of his neck glowing red.

A cheer rang out. Someone clapped. Silence. Then a gradual roar of approval erupted from the crowd, echoing off of the walls to generate an overwhelming noise. Saphira began to walk, gaining confidence, trailing Alycie and Murtagh behind her. The dragon breathed a puff of smoke proudly. The crowd gasped, paused, and then finally cheered ecstatically.

Alycie looked at the people, smiling easily now. There were many more dwarves than humans, and some seemed not at all pleased at the Dragon Rider's arrival. The humans seemed the very essence of revolution, proudly bearing weapons and past strife with admirable strength shining in their eyes. The children looked at the train of foreigners with wide, hopeful eyes. Alycie sent them a smile. A strange sense of familiarity came over her as she looked around. She felt home.

Behind her, Murtagh remained uneasy. His dark hair hung by his eyes, shielding his face from view as he steered Tornac along behind Cadoc.

They road along the cobblestone road towards the marble city. It was considerably smaller than the Beor mountain itself, but it remained nearly as large as one of those mountains from the Spine. Alycie looked in wonder at the colored lanterns that hung in every round window that dotted the outside of the structure.

They reached the base of the city, pausing before continuing on through the large fortified gate that surrounded it. Jasper pillars ran evenly-space along the walls, alternating with strange sculptures of fantastic creatures set into the stone. Archways along a high ledge revealed multiple clumps of people cheering as the dragon and Rider paraded down the hall. They reached the end of the passage, emerging into a huge domed room through a gigantic archway.

The inside of the city was astonishing. About five hundred meters across, it rose to an unbelievable height, ending in a beautiful, magnificent red sapphire about twenty meters across. Alycie's eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw it. It was shaped into a rose in full bloom, spilling light down onto everything below it. Millions of arches lined the walls of each level in circles, narrowing as the height increased. Four hallways split off into the ground floor of the city, including the one they had just exited. The one across the floor matched that one while the right and left hallways spiraled down underground in a mirror image of each other.

"You must go on foot from here," said the bald man, dismounting. Boos echoed down at them from the crowded archways. Alycie swung out of Cadoc's saddle. Murtagh appeared by her side immediately, glaring around warily. Cadoc, Snowfire, and Tornac were led away by a dwarf and the bald man began to lead them across the room into the hallway on the right.

"Stay close," said Murtagh. Alycie felt his hand slide into hers and squeeze it. She returned the gesture as they walked into the hallway.

They walked along for a few minutes in silence, then turned into a smaller corridor. The guards followed, ignoring the small space. They turned again, walking. Another turn. And another. Once again they turned, coming face to face with an immense cedar door. Black wood stains covered it from years of use. The bald man pulled it open, ordering everyone but the guards inside.

They found themselves in a two-story wooden study lined with bookshelves. A spiral, wrought iron staircase wound up to the second floor balcony. But the most remarkable thing about the room was the man standing in it. He was situated behind a large desk, his shaved head gleaming in the light. His ebony skin looked strange to Alycie, and he had a short, clean black beard that stretched along his upper lip and chin. He, like the bald man, wore a rich shirt of purple, though his was covered with a bright red vest embroidered with golden thread. His intelligent eyes stared at each of them in turn as they approached slowly.

"Welcome to Tronjheim, Eragon and Saphira," he said in a deep, confident voice. "I am Ajihad. Please, seat yourselves."

Eragon, Murtagh, and Alycie sank into armchairs next to one another, Saphira settling behind them. Ajihad snapped his fingers. A man identical to the bald man who had led them so far emerged from behind the staircase. Alycie's mouth opened in surprise, Eragon stared, and Murtagh stiffened. Ajihad smiled at their reactions.

"Your confusion is understandable; they are twin brothers," he said. "I would tell you their names, but they have none."

Alycie heard Saphira hiss behind them. Ajihad sat behind the desk, pressing his fingertips together as he regarded them each with a steady gaze. The bald twins retreated to the staircase where they stood impassively. As the dark-skinned man's gaze moved from Murtagh to Alycie, she felt a surge of nerves, fidgeting uneasily. When he finished, the leader of the Varden gestured to the Twins. One of them walked to his side. Ajihad whispered something to him and he shook his head vigorously. Ajihad frowned, but nodded, turning to Murtagh.

"You have placed me in a difficult position by refusing to be examined. You have been allowed into Farthen Dûr because the Twins have assured me that they can control you and because of your actions on behalf of Eragon and Arya. I understand that there may be things you wish to keep hidden in your mind, but as long as you do, we cannot trust you," he said.

"You wouldn't trust me anyway," said Murtagh. Ajihad's face suddenly darkened. Alycie felt the bottom drop out of her stomach in foreboding.

"Though it's been twenty and three years since it last broke upon my ear...I know that voice." He stood, looking intimidating. "It came from another man, one more beast than human. Get up." Murtagh complied, watching Ajihad, alert. "Remove your shirt." Alycie opened her mouth to protest, but Murtagh silenced her with a warning glance. He stripped his tunic off, revealing his well-muscled, tanned torso. "Now turn around," said Ajihad. Alycie looked on in worry as Morzan's son turned, displaying his horrid sear to the rest of the room. Ajihad breathed. "Murtagh." Over by Eragon, Orik made a shocked noise. Ajihad rounded on the Twins. "Did you know of this!?" he demanded.

"We discovered his name in Eragon's mind as well as this girl's, but we did not suspect that this _boy_ was the son of one as powerful as Morzan. It never occurred--"

"And you didn't tell me!?" exclaimed Ajihad. He raised a hand, halting any excuse the Twins might have had. "We will discuss it later. First I must untangle this muddle. Do you still refuse to be probed?"

"Yes," said Murtagh. "I won't let anyone inside my head." He tugged his tunic back on.

"There will be unpleasant consequences if you don't. Unless the Twins can certify that you aren't a threat, we cannot give you credence, despite, and perhaps because of, the assistance you have given Eragon. Without that verification, the people here, dwarf and human alike, will tear you apart if they learn of your presence. I'll be forced to keep you confined at all times...as much for your protection as for ours. It will only get worse once the dwarf king, Hrothgar, demands custody of you. Don't force yourself into that situation when it can easily be avoided."

"No...even if I were to submit, I would still be treated like a leper and an outcast. All I wish is to leave. If you let me do that peacefully, I'll never reveal your location to the Empire," said Murtagh.

"What will happen if you are captured and brought before Galbatorix? He will extract every secret from your mind, no matter how strong you may be. Even if you could resist him, how can we trust that you won't rejoin him in the future? I cannot take that chance."

"What will you do?" demanded Alycie suddenly. "Keep him locked up as a prisoner forever?" Ajihad turned his eyes to her.

"No," he said, "only until he allows himself to be examined. If he is found trustworthy, the Twins will remove all knowledge of Farthen Dûr's location from his mind before he leaves." He turned back to Murtagh. "We won't risk someone with those memories falling into Galbatorix's hands. What is it to be, Murtagh? Decide quickly or else the path will be chosen for you."

"Murtagh--" started Alycie.

"Don't speak!" snapped Ajihad. She shut her mouth quickly. Murtagh slowly opened his mouth.

"My mind is the one sanctuary that has not been stolen from me. Men have tried to breech it before, but I've learned to defend it vigorously, for I am only safe with my innermost thoughts. You have asked for the one thing I cannot give, least of all to those two." He pointed at the Twins. "Do with me what you will, but know this: death will take me before I'll expose myself to their probing." Alycie exhaled slowly, her heart sinking.

"I'm not surprised by your choice, though I had hoped otherwise," said Ajihad. "Guards!" The doors opened and in marched a handful of warriors, weapons at the ready. Ajihad pointed at Murtagh. "Take him to a windowless room and bar the door securely. Post six men by the entrance and allow no one inside until I come to see him. Do not speak to him either."

The warriors surrounded Murtagh. Alycie was shaking her head, not daring to speak. Murtagh looked at her with the familiar wistful, loving look on his face, before he turned away, dropping all expression, and allowed himself to be escorted out of the study by the guards.

"I want everyone out of this room but Eragon, Saphira, and Alycie. Now!" said Ajihad sharply. Alycie jumped at her name, but remembered that the Twins had probably informed him of her name after her examination. As the Twins bowed and exited the room, Orik spoke.

"Sir, the king will want to know of Murtagh. And there is still the matter of my insubordination..."

"I will tell Hrothgar myself. As for your actions...wait outside until I call for you. And don't let the Twins get away. I'm not done with them, either."

"Very well," said Orik. He bowed his head and left the study. Ajihad sat, sighing. he ran a hand over his ebony face in silence.

"Will he truly never be released?" asked Alycie suddenly. Ajihad's black eyes met her wide, hopeful ones.

"Not unless he allows the Twins into his mind," he said. Alycie rose to her feet sharply.

"If you are indeed a gracious and wise leader, then why can you not just let him leave?" she pleaded. "Please, he has suffered enough in his life without being imprisoned for the rest of it! He wasn't even supposed to come here! It was only his loyalty to Eragon that kept him with us so long!"

"Do you not see why?" retorted Ajihad. "I am in charge of thousands of lives here in Farthen Dûr. The son of one of the most powerful and evil killers in all of Alagaësia arrives in the company of a long, sought-after Rider. He claims his innocence, but we cannot know for sure. If we merely rely on judgment, he could betray us all. He could merely turn around and tell Galbatorix everything about us. And I have not toiled against that tyrant for two decades to let that happen now."

"He is a good man," persisted Alycie. Eragon looked at her.

"Alycie, there are more important matters at hand now than Murtagh's imprisonment," he said. Alycie rounded on him.

"You'll dismiss him like that then, will you? He was your friend! He put himself in danger by helping you get here! And he's pulled away by guards and you just sit there, not even raising a complaint!" Ajihad was evaluating her with his eyes, his hand stroking his chin.

"I sense there is something more than a friendship between you," he said slowly. Alycie looked away, blushing angrily.

"They have a romance," said Eragon. Alycie didn't speak.

"I see...I must admit, though, the Twins did not inform me of this," said Ajihad. "But it would explain the hostility. I assure you, he will be treated fairly and generously." Alycie sank back into her chair, her expression changing to a mask of nonchalance.

"What will be done to him?" she asked.

"I need only to ask him a few questions. Then he will be allowed to do whatever he wishes, though I cannot allow him free reign." Ajihad leaned forward. "But now I wish to know about _you_. The Twins informed me that you were a slave in Dras-Leona."

"Yes," said Alycie stiffly. "I joined with Eragon and Murtagh immediately after escaping, but I'll let him tell the tale."

"Very well," said Ajihad. "It also appears you can use magic."

"Apparently."

"You did not know this before?" inquired Ajihad.

"No. Not until the Twins probed my mind," said Alycie.

"Then you cannot control it?"

"No." Ajihad leaned back with a sigh.

"This could prove dangerous; a girl with untrained magic."

"It does not work unless I deliberately access it, which is unlikely due to the fact that I know no incantations," said Alycie.

"The Twins say you attacked one of them with a knife using magic," said Ajihad.

"I was under intense stress and emotion," said Alycie simply. "It won't happen again."

"Even so, I will contact you about the matter later," said the Varden's leader. "You will be escorted through Tronjheim by a guard at all times. Ferros has been assigned to this duty. If any questions arise, bring them to him. You are dismissed."

"Thank you," grumbled Alycie, standing. "When will--"

"I will contact you when you may visit Murtagh," said Ajihad, smiling. Alycie nodded jerkily, walking to the large cedar doors. She pushed them open and strode out into the corridor.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**The ancient language speech translates to _'knife rise'_, which isn't really good enough to get it out of the wall, but I couldn't find the right words, so it's close enough. **

**REVIEW!!!**


	27. The Escort and the Exploration

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Wow, I haven't written an all OC chapter in a very long time. Well, you all guessed that Ferros was that particular guard! Congrats! You're all psychic! Or I'm just really predictable. **

**Anyway, I assure you he's honorable. So far. I don't intend on this turning into a soap opera, so don't lean that way.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

A hole of loneliness seemed to have dug itself into the pit of Alycie's stomach, laced with the uneasy fright of the unfamiliar surroundings. She felt the eyes of Orik, the Twins, and the warriors as she passed. One stepped forward suddenly. Alycie immediately recognized him as the strange one who had held the knife to her neck the night before.

"Hello," he said. Alycie noticed a slight accent around the vowels of the word as he said it. "I've been ordered to be your escort for the duration of your stay in Tronjheim. Name's Ferros." He bowed his head and held out a hand eagerly.

"Alycie," said Alycie in a small voice, taking his hand. She felt uncomfortable, noting the Twins watching her avidly still.

"Right then. Follow me," said Ferros, turning on his heel and starting down the corridor with a bounce in his step. Alycie walked after him, folding her arms across her chest nervously.

"When will I get my sword back?" she asked. The guard turned his head back.

"Oh, it'll be returned to you by morning," he said. A minute later they emerged into the main room of Tronjheim, blinking up at the sapphire rose once more. Alycie stared around at the rows and rows of arches that lined the walls. She sighed.

"What am I supposed to do now?" she muttered to herself. She looked at Ferros. "Erm...is there a kind of...washroom or something where I could go?"

"Ah yes," said Ferros. "And would you be wanting fresh clothes when finished?" Alycie looked down. The hem of her tunic was horribly ragged and frayed, and her sleeves were stained heavily with blood. Dust coated her everywhere.

"Yes, but I'll have to pay for them later. I don't have any gold, but I'll find some sort of work as soon as I--"

"Ajihad has offered to provide for your needs until you are well grounded here," interjected Ferros. "Come, I will show you to the pools." Alycie followed the guard towards the large tunnel to the right.

They entered onto a sloping staircase leading underground. A long time they walked, turning off into tunnel-like corridors, forcing the guard and Alycie, though she was short already, to crouch to avoid scraping their heads on the low ceiling. The passage was obviously made for and by dwarves. Red lanterns lined the walls on either side of them, easing the pressure of darkness on their eyes. They turned off into a small room, empty except for a door on the other side.

"The pools are in there," said Ferros, pointing at the far door. "You will find soap and brushes as well. Undress here and leave your clothes. When you are finished, I'll have brought fresh attire. I will leave you now."

"Thank you," said Alycie, watching him until he had exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Alycie exhaled slowly, looking around. The room seemed to be secure. She tugged her tunic off over her head, looking around warily still. She shook her head, laughing to herself, and slipped out of her filthy shirt. Once fully naked, she walked to the door, opened it, and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. The room was pitch black and cramped. Claustrophobia crept up Alycie's neck, but she ignored it, stepping around slowly as she walked forward slowly.

Her foot met warm water and she slid into it. Oh, the heavenly bliss. Alycie dunked her head underwater, running her hands through her greasy hair. She sat up, feeling around the rim of the water for the soap. Once found, she retreated underwater with it, washing the dirt and grime from her skin.

Once finished bathing, Alycie emerged cautiously into the small room. Her clothes were gone, and in their place lay a plain, yet clean, dark blue dress with a low neckline notched in the center and laced with thin strips of leather. Several small eyelets were cut into the elbows of the long sleeves to allow freer motion. A lighter blue under dress lay folded beside the first, with a dark brown, leather belt set on top of it. A pair of new leather shoes sat beside the dresses, and beside them lay a dry towel.

Alycie quickly dried herself off with the towel, slipping into the dresses and lacing them up with an old, practiced skill. She felt odd with the skirts flowing about her legs, so used to the past months of long pants. She pulled the shoes on and buckled the belt, rubbing the towel over her hair a last time to dry it better.

She opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. Ferros was leaning on the wall, tossing small pebbles at the red lamp opposite him. He turned as she closed the door. Alycie shifted from one foot to the other self-consciously as she walked over to him. He cleared his throat.

"You look lovely," he said.

"It's been a long time since I last wore a dress," said Alycie. Her stomach grumbled loudly. Ferros laughed.

"I suppose you'll want to go to the kitchens next?" he asked. Alycie nodded, grinning.

They returned to the main hall of Tronjheim, turning into several corridors that weaved in a maze until finally spitting them out in a room full of long, stone tables. Alycie stood by the door while Ferros spoke with the dwarf chef, soon returning with two platters of hot, steaming food. He led her up several staircases and through an archway or two, finally stopping at a sunny ledge with a window overlooking the small villages outside of the white marble structure of Tronjheim. A single colored lantern cast blue light over them as they sat. Alycie began to eat as Ferros removed his helmet, revealing his face for the first time.

He was young, a little younger than Murtagh it seemed, with fairly long, blonde hair that stuck out around his ears and large, hazel eyes. His skin seemed naturally a light tan, despite the lack of sunlight beneath the mountain. He set his helmet on the ground and eagerly lifted the bowl to his mouth, shoveling mushrooms down his throat at top speed. Alycie snorted.

"Are you expecting the Varden to run out of food anytime soon?" she asked with a laugh. He stopped, blinking, then swallowed sheepishly.

"I haven't eaten since noon yesterday. I was put on patrol of the hidden entrance, and then you all arrived. Once the Twins finished interrogating you all, I was put on night watch back here in Tronjheim. Then this morning it was back to guiding your group to Ajihad. I haven't slept either."

"I'm sorry to be such a burden on you," said Alycie guiltily. Ferros shook his head.

"Not at all. If I wasn't your guide, I would probably be stationed at the gates or somewhere until nightfall. I consider this a vacation," he said. Alycie nodded, scratching her neck. She winced as the cut from the sword shot a sting of pain along its length. "I'm sorry about that," said Ferros. "You started thrashing into the blade before I could readjust."

"It's alright," said Alycie. She stared out of the window, chewing the food. She wondered where Murtagh had been taken and what he was doing in his imprisonment. She wished she were with him. The loneliness inside of her rippled.

"So, what's it like, if you don't mind me asking?" asked Ferros suddenly, lowering his bowl. Alycie looked at him quizzically.

"What?"

"Traveling with a Rider," said Ferros. "Can he really defeat Galbatorix? What about his dragon?"

"I don't think he could manage to kill the king yet," said Alycie. "He's only my age. He can fight and use magic, but Galbatorix is most likely far more skilled. And his dragon's name is Saphira."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day when the Riders would return," said Ferros in awe, whistling. "And you are a magic user yourself."

"No, I'm not," said Alycie.

"But when the Twins--"

"That was the first time in my life. Imagine right now, if you could suddenly use magic. That is how I am at present."

"I see," said Ferros. "Will you join Du Vrangr Gata?"

"What?" asked Alycie.

"Du Vrangr Gata," repeated Ferros. "It is the alliance of magic users within the Varden. The Twins lead them."

"Then I don't think I will join," said Alycie. "I don't like the look of those Twins."

"They have done much for us," said Ferros. They sat in silence for a time.

"So tell me about your life," said Alycie, wishing to distract herself from the lonely longing she was feeling inside still with the absence of Murtagh. "Have you lived amongst the Varden all your life?"

"No," said Ferros, shaking his head. "I come from Furnost. My mother was a native of Surda and my father was a merchant. He originally came from somewhere in the Hadarac, but had not been to the desert in years. When I was ten, my mother died of an illness and my father vanished from the town. I said my goodbyes and retreated south to Surda, where I lived in the capital for a time. Ajihad called to King Orrin for reinforcements and I was sent here to help guard the city. I've lived here ever since."

"Ten years? That is impressive," said Alycie. "You traveled by yourself?"

"Yes," said Ferros, nodding. "What about you? Where are you from? When did you meet Eragon? Who is the other that came with you?" Alycie felt a knot tie in her stomach at the last question.

"Well...I don't come from as nice a background as you do," she said. "I was a slave in Dras-Leona all my life. My brother was sold to a merchant named Fexir, so I only saw him once every year or so. The last time he came, he killed his master in a plight of self-defense and we planned to escape. I left, but injured myself in the flight, and my brother was captured. I grew ill as I walked through the desert and fell unconscious next to Eragon's camp as the Ra'zac attacked him."

"Ra'zac?" asked Ferros, eyes wide, like a child absorbed in a tale of fantastic beings.

"Yes. Mur...Murtagh arrived and saved us from the beasts. I don't remember much of the first meeting, being delirious at the time, but I traveled with them from then on." Alycie turned to stare out of the window once again.

"Murtagh is the one who arrived with you?" asked Ferros. "The dark-haired man?"

"Yes," said Alycie. "And now he's in captivity."

"Well, he refused to be probed," said Ferros with sudden authority. Alycie looked at him sharply.

"He had a good reason," she said. Ferros shrugged.

"If he wished to be protected by the Varden, he should have put his personals aside and submitted to our ways."

"He did not _wish_ to be protected by the Varden," said Alycie. "And neither did I, yet here I am."

"Then why did you come to the Varden if you did not wish to join?" asked Ferros.

"We accompanied Eragon to assure his safety," said Alycie. "Murtagh was violently opposed to coming, but he agreed to make sure Eragon reached them alive. He was to leave shortly before they got there, and I was to go with him to Surda. The Kull drove us into this dead-end valley and we were instead forced into the Varden's hands." Ferros paused.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You could leave if you wish. Just allow the Twins to extract the knowledge of Farthen--"

"I'm not letting them into my head again," said Alycie. "I'm not letting anyone in. It's too painful and I've gone through it more times than I would have liked." They lapsed into a long silence as they finished their meals. Ferros stood, picking up the bowls. He brushed his hair back from his forehead.

"I'll take these back down to the kitchen," he said. He looked at her. "I'm not supposed to leave you on your own, but if you promise not to...I don't know...jump out of the window or perform any other manner of escape, you can stay here until I return. Traveling back and forth through these halls and corridors can become tedious."

"I won't jump out of the window," said Alycie reassuringly. Ferros nodded in gratitude and walked off down the hallway.

Alycie looked at the window calculatingly. She stood and peered out. She _could_ make the jump. She grinned and laughed to herself, crossing her arms. Something caught her eye: Ferros' helmet, still on the ground. She bent and picked it up, turning it in her hands. The metal was well polished with a secondary bronze plate nailed along the bottom rim rising in four spikes to the top tip of the helmet. The bottom rim dropped low, then rose in an arch above where the eye was situated and dropped into a nose guard, rising into another arch back down to the neck once more. Alycie looked on the inside, then, curiously, pulled it onto her own head.

The headpiece seemed loose on her head, dropping so that the arches were uncomfortably close to the tops of her eyes. The nosepiece extended slightly below her nose, rubbing the skin. She hummed to herself, hearing the noise compressed between her ears and the metal. Alycie rotated her head, feeling the unusual weight. It seemed so strange. She raised a hand and flicked the outside of the helmet. A low dong echoed through her ears. A laugh sounded behind her and she whirled around to find Ferros standing behind her, chuckling.

"Fascinating thing, isn't it?" he asked. Alycie jerked it off of her head, handing it to him.

"Interesting," she said shortly. Ferros took it, spinning it between his fingers.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked. Alycie thought.

"Sleep," she said. "Where is Eragon staying?"

"He will share accommodations with his dra--"

"Saphira," interjected Alycie.

"...Yes, with Saphira...above Isidar Mithrim, the star sapphire," finished Ferros. "That is where the stables for the Riders are located."

"So I'll not be staying near him?" asked Alycie. Ferros shrugged.

"The higher levels are completely abandoned," he said. "You could choose any room up there if you wished."

"Ajihad hasn't condemned me to a certain room in a certain hall?" asked Alycie. Ferros shook his head.

"You shouldn't be too judgmental of him," he said. "He has given you free reign, apart from my orders to accompany you."

"So you are not just an escort; you are my guard," said Alycie. Ferros sighed and nodded.

"Yes," he admitted.

"And when did these orders come to pass? I did not meet with Ajihad before that one conference and you were not present," said Alycie.

"When the Twins explained what they had found in the examination, he ordered that you be guarded for a time. If Murtagh had accepted the examination when Ajihad asked again, he would have been placed under the same supervision, though his would have been for only a few days, considering he has no risk of magic." Alycie looked at him oddly, but remembered that Ajihad had taken precautions so that Murtagh's identity would be protected. How she missed him...

"Yes, I see," she said, walking past Ferros down the hall. He ran to catch up with her.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To find where I am to stay, of course," said Alycie. Ferros nodded, accompanying her out onto The Endless Staircase. As they climbed the levels, Alycie noticed a chute running along the wall by the stairs. "What is that for?"

"That is in case of an emergency. A dwarf at the top of Vol Turin would slide down to the bottom to deliver the news or whatever that was needed to be done," said Ferros. Alycie's mouth stretched in a smile as she looked at it. He noticed her face. "Only dwarves. Anyone bigger than a dwarf would fly out of the slide and hit the stairs."

"Alright," said Alycie, though her grin remained.

They continued to climb. Alycie looked out into the main chamber over a railing. The distance around the room grew smaller as they passed level after level. Alycie turned finally into the last arch, walking a ways down the hall. She opened a door on her right and looked in, stepping inside. Ferros followed her.

They stood in a large, marble room with a large, uncovered bed situated in the center. An overturned chair lay in a corner, but other than that the room was empty. Alycie walked to the chair, lifting it upright. Ferros looked around.

"Have you chosen?" he asked. Alycie nodded, looking around at the walls.

"It seems good," she said. She walked to Ferros, crossing her arms. "And where will you be?"

"Not in here," reassured Ferros. "I am to choose a room close by, but not in the immediate area."

"Good," said Alycie.

"Good," repeated Ferros. "I will have some sheets sent up."

"Don't bother," said Alycie. "I'll get them later. But now I swear if I go anywhere else, I will collapse from exhaustion." Ferros laughed.

"I'll leave you then," he said, walking to the door. "When you wake, holler. I will probably be sleeping a few doors down." He stepped out of the door, and then stopped, looking back. "Holler loud." The door closed. Alycie waited a few minutes, sitting on the bed. Her bed. She was living here now. Home.

"Unbelievable..." she muttered to herself. Not a day ago she had been running from the Kull armies, and today, she was living at the top of a marble city inside of a mountain and she was back in a dress with a guard following her everywhere. And Murtagh was in captivity. Alycie missed him. She sighed, feeling the loneliness make another stab at her heart.

She looked down at her hands folded in her lap. Her hair hung limp about her face as the same name repeated itself over and over in her mind. _Murtagh_. His face flashed in her mind. His smile. His eyes. His voice. His hand brushing against her cheek as they kissed.

Something dropped onto her hands. It felt wet. She blinked. More water splashed onto her skin. She lifted her hands to her eyes slowly. The liquid shimmered on them. She blinked again. Her eyes were wet. A drop was sliding down her cheek.

Tears. They were tears. Alycie breathed slowly. She hadn't cried since her infant years. Even when Vivaria viciously brought the lash down on her back, she had not shed one tear. Garrick had taken notice of it early on. He nearly cried every time he first set eyes on her during his visits. Her eyes had remained dry. Now, for the first time in nearly seventeen years, she cried. And she cried not for herself. She cried for Murtagh.

Alycie let out a sob, then covered her mouth, curling up on the bed. She rolled to face away from the door, pressing her face into the musty, ancient, straw mattress that covered the bed. For the first time in her life, she cried herself to sleep.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	28. The Teacher and the Invitation

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**No Murtagh in this chapter, sorry. Plenty in the next though. Bear with me. THANK YOU FOR ALL OF THE REVIEWS!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

Alycie awoke sharply as something thudded against her legs. She looked down in alarm. There, rubbing against her knees, stood a black cat. Alycie sat up slowly, not wanting to frighten the creature away. The cat padded onto her lap, kneading its claws into her legs. She winced, but petted its fluffy mane. The cat yawned, showing abnormally long, white, sharp fangs, tail flicking through the air. Alycie smiled.

_'Easily amused, aren't you?'_

She looked around suddenly. The voice had come from within her own head. Nobody was there. The room was empty but for her and the cat. The door stood a few inches open; enough room for the cat to have slipped through.

_'I am not a cat,'_ said the voice in a slightly annoyed tone. Alycie looked at the cat...or whatever it was. It was staring at her flatly. She glanced to the side before pointing at herself.

"Are...you talking to me?" she asked.

_'Not technically talking,'_ replied the...thing.

"Oh..." said Alycie. She closed her mouth._ 'Well, would you mind enlightening me as to your species?_'

_'Somewhat. I am a werecat. And before you ask, I am called Solembum.'_

_'Oh...I'm Alycie...'_

_'Follow me,'_ sent the werecat. Before Alycie could speak or think, Solembum had leapt off of the bed, flitting across the floor. She slid off of the bed quickly, running to the door as the werecat's black tail flicked around it.

She ran through the hall after the black creature, turning from one corridor into another, following the furry mass. She emerged into a hallway identical to the others, turning as she heard a loud yowl. The werecat sat in front of a door, which suddenly opened of its own accord, flooding light into the hall. It closed once more. Alycie looked around, walking to the door. It opened suddenly.

Blinking in the light, she stepped inside, looking around. Plants hung from the walls, making the air warm and humid. A four-poster bed sat in the corner of the room, bedecked with even more plants. Strange objects Alycie had never seen before littered the floor, and, in the center of it all, sat a short, middle-aged woman with tightly curled hair. She looked up as Alycie entered.

"If you're part of that Du Vrangr Gata, I'm not coming down," she said. Alycie shook her head, blinking.

"No...I just...followed your ca...werecat...and..." The woman brightened immediately.

"Oh, Solembum led you here? Come in, come in. Have a seat. The floor will have to do, I'm afraid. I've no more chairs." Alycie walked over, sitting down stiffly on the cold, stone floor.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"My name is Angela," said the woman. Solembum leapt into her lap and she stroked him a few times. "And who are you? Solembum tells me you're not one of the Varden."

"I'm Alycie," said Alycie. "I arrived a few days ago...with Eragon, the Rider..."

"Oh, Eragon!" exclaimed Angela. "Is he here too? I knew he was a Rider, I just knew it. Never have I seen such a tangled future." She pulled out a wineskin, drinking from it.

"You saw his future?" asked Alycie. Angela nodded.

"Read it in the dragon bones," she said. "I'm a fortune teller." Alycie stared at Solembum. The werecat stared back.

"How can your werecat talk?" she asked.

"Oh he spoke to you?" asked Angela. Alycie nodded. "That's rare. He usually doesn't speak to anyone. Werecats have many powers, one of which is to talk."

"Can you talk to him?" asked Alycie.

"I suppose," said Angela. Alycie leaned an elbow on her knee, holding her face in her hand.

"So why are you hiding from Du Vangr Gata?" she asked. Angela scoffed.

"Oh they won't leave me alone. They've been pestering me to join their little group ever since I arrived here, so I retreated to this level. Please don't tell them I'm here."

"Oh I won't," said Alycie, nodding. She looked down at the floor. "Everyone here thinks I should join them as well." Angela raised an eyebrow.

"You use magic?" she asked. Alycie nodded.

"As of two days ago," she said, "I am an official magic user. Eragon thinks I should get a teacher, the Varden wish me to join their sorcerers, and I'm still not sure if I like the magic or not."

"Well you can't go back now that you have it," said Angela. "But I think you should do what you wish. Don't let these tangled loyalties and alliances obstruct your fate. What do you want to do?"

"I want to leave," said Alycie. "I want to get away from the war and the Empire and the Varden. I want to go to Surda, or the ocean, or somewhere, and I don't want soldiers to chase after me."

"Then go," said Angela.

"I can't."

"Why ever not?" asked Angela, taking a long drought from her wineskin.

"They've locked up Murtagh," said Alycie. Angela suddenly choked, spitting the wine out suddenly. Alycie moved quickly to avoid the spray. The woman spluttered.

"Murtagh!?" she exclaimed.

"Yes."

"He's here?"

"Yes..."

"And he came with you?"

"Yes." Angela looked at Alycie with dawning comprehension.

"And you are involved with him?" she asked. Alycie nodded slowly and sadly.

"Yes," she said. "And they won't let him out."

"I should say not," said Angela. Alycie's gaze hardened as she looked up at the woman.

"He's not as bad as you think," she said. Angela held up her hands.

"Peace, peace," she said. "But I would be careful with him. He is the son of a Forsworn, and that means more than we sometimes realize." She paused, and then shook her head, waving her hand. "Anyway, about your magic, are you going to get a teacher or join the Varden's spellcasters?"

"I don't know," said Alycie, sighing. She looked up at Angela. "You know magic."

"Yes, I do," said the woman.

"Could you teach me?"

"Yes."

"Will you?" asked Alycie.

"Of course," said Angela. Alycie was confused for a moment, and then she smiled.

"Well...thank you."

"You're welcome," said Angela. Solembum jumped from Angela's lap and trotted to the door, which opened, letting him out into the hall. Alycie watched him go, and then turned back to Angela. The woman held out her wineskin. Alycie took it, drinking deeply.

"Of course there's the small matter of my guard..."

"Guard?" asked Angela lightly.

"They've ordered a constant escort for me," said Alycie. Her eyes widened. "And I've left him asleep." Angela laughed.

"Some guard," she said. "I can see he's vigilant."

"He's nice," said Alycie. "So when will you begin to teach me?" Angela tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Tomorrow," she said finally. "I have herbs I need to gather from the lower levels today." Alycie sighed. Angela looked at her. "Why? Were you expecting to go charging into battle wielding spells this afternoon?"

"No..." muttered Alycie. "I can't do anything else, though."

"You can fight, can't you?" asked Angela.

"Not too well," admitted Alycie. "Enough to survive for a time. I sparred with Murtagh and Eragon for a few weeks."

"I don't know their level of talent with swords," said Angela, drinking from the wineskin. "What can you do then?"

"Brom once commended me on my wit," said Alycie. "He said my mind was sharp, valuable, and by far my greatest asset." Angela raised her eyebrows.

"Brom? Coming from him, that is a great compliment," she said. "You must be bright..." Alycie shrugged.

"It hasn't gotten me anywhere so far," she said. "I've been running into every problem head on like a berserker. Reckless."

"You need to learn to control your impulsive nature, then," said Angela. "Before every problem, just think for a moment."

"I fear, if I do that, that the moment will pass and things will grow worse," said Alycie. Angela shook her head.

"There's always a way out," she said. "And it's easier to find if you're smart."

A yowl suddenly sounded outside of the door. It opened, permitting Solembum a re-entry. The door closed once more. Alycie started to turn back around, but stopped as the door began to open once more. She twisted back around to see Eragon standing in the doorway, confusion etched onto his face.

"Hello Eragon," she said brightly. The Rider looked from her to Angela.

"What are you doing here?" he exclaimed. Angela smiled brightly at him.

"Well, why don't you sit on the floor and I'll tell you? I'd offer you a chair, but I'm sitting on the only one." Eragon awkwardly walked inside, sitting next to Alycie. He looked at her.

"How do you know each other?" he asked.

"We just met," said Alycie. "She's to be my teacher in magic."

"Really? That's good," said Eragon. A shout echoed suddenly through the hallway. Alycie got to her feet quickly.

"Ferros must be awake..." she muttered. "I've got to go."

"Tell him if he had snored softer he would have heard you get up," said Angela cheerily. Alycie waved shortly before running out of the door.

She walked up to the corner, turning into a new hallway. She suddenly realized that Solembum had led her to that room. She did not know where to go. The shout sounded again. Alycie followed the voice, rounding corner after corner. As she skidded into the next hallway, she spotted Ferros standing outside of his room, hands cupped around his mouth.

"Where did you go?" he demanded, lowering his hands angrily. Alycie hurried over.

"I'm sorry," she said. "There was a cat and it told me to follow it, so I--"

"A cat told you to follow it..." repeated Ferros, raising an eyebrow.

"Well technically he's a werecat," said Alycie impatiently. "But anyway I followed him and I met Angela and--"

"Angela the Herbalist? The Twins have been looking for her for days," said Ferros. Alycie rolled her eyes.

"Might I finish?" she asked.

"Sorry."

"She's offered to be my magic teacher," said Alycie. "And I am to meet her tomorrow." She paused. "Please don't reveal where she is," she said. "She told me not to tell anyone, but I've already done so."

"I won't reveal her whereabouts," said Ferros. Alycie sighed in relief. She noted that Ferros no longer wore his armor, but instead was clad in an everyday tunic and pants. His hair looked disheveled from sleep, sticking out in every direction. "I have been notified that your sword is being renovated by the dwarven smiths," said Ferros. "It will be returned to you soon."

"Thank you," said Alycie. "Is there anything planned for the day?"

"No," said Ferros. "You choose what you wish to do." Alycie sighed in frustration.

"I've never been this free, but now that I am, I am having a hard time finding ways to pass the time!" she said. "Suggest something." Ferros shrugged.

"You could...I don't know. Usually I have duties to fulfill. I am in the same predicament as you are," he said, thinking. "There's the library."

"I can't read," said Alycie instinctively. She paused. "Well...I couldn't read. But it's been months since I first learned."

"Can't read?" asked Ferros. "Then we must refresh your memory. Come."

"First can we stop by the kitchens?" asked Alycie.

"Whatever you wish," said Ferros, shrugging.

They walked down the many flights of stairs, Alycie glancing every once in a while at the long slide that ran along the wall. Ferros led the way through the winding corridors to the kitchen again, returning once more with two platters of mushrooms.

"Do they farm in Farthen Dûr?" asked Alycie, looking at the mushrooms.

"No room and not enough sunlight," said Ferros. "They cultivate the mushrooms from the walls and eat meat from the livestock and fish. There are other dwarf civilizations that farm, however. I'd eat that quickly. The dwarves don't look kindly on food being eaten near their precious scrolls." Alycie quickly popped a mushroom into her mouth.

They finished eating as they reached the library, handing off their plates to a kind woman who offered to take them back. Ferros pushed the large wooden doors in and Alycie stepped inside. Pillars stood five levels tall in rows across the room, housing several bookcases back to back between them. Along the walls were huge shelves filled with scrolls of varying ages. In the back spiraled three staircases into the rafters. Dotted between everything were empty benches surrounding big stone tables set into the floor. The room was deserted for the time being.

"Where do you want to start?" asked Ferros.

"It's cruel to make me decide," said Alycie.

She stepped further into the room, walking slowly along an aisle between two black bookcases. Ferros followed dutifully behind her. She paused and pulled out a leather bound book with yellowing pages. It looked promising. She pulled out a few more volumes at random and walked to a stone table next to the wall, sitting and spreading the books before her. Ferros took a seat next to her. She picked up the first book, opening it and squinting at the letters. They were familiar. Slowly she eased through the first word, sounding it out in her head. She could understand it.

"Do you need my help?" asked Ferros.

"What is that word there?" asked Alycie, pointing.

"Mysteries," said Ferros, looking at the text. Alycie nodded, her eyes moving slowly across the page. Ferros picked up one of the other books she had removed from the shelf, opening it and beginning to read.

Alycie asked for help few times, happy that her memory of the alphabet had remained despite the months of lax practice. The book she had picked up told of the creatures in Alagaësia with unique intelligence, such as the werecat and dragon. As she read on, she found that any animal could be taught by skill or by magic to obtain the power of speech or other powers. Ravens and owls were among the common birds to obtain this power, as cats were the most probable mammals. Reptiles did not have much innovation in the field of magic, apart from dragons, and amphibians were used only in the use, though they could not use it themselves.

Ferros was called to Ajihad's council after a while, and, after swearing she wouldn't go anywhere, Alycie was alone in the library. Her reading increased in speed, as she grew accustomed to the vowel sounds and repeated words. She switched to another book after a time, and soon found herself immersed in a particularly clever dwarf's logical designs for ludicrous inventions.

"Hello again," came a voice, jerking her from her absorption. She looked up to see Eragon standing across the table. He glanced at the bench. "May I sit?"

"Of course," said Alycie. Eragon sank onto the bench, looking at her.

"I'm glad you've found a teacher," he said. "Angela's a witch. She is very skilled at magic."

"How do you know her?" asked Alycie.

"I met her in Teirm before we traveled to Dras-Leona," said Eragon. He looked at the book in Alycie's hands. "Reading up?"

"Yes," said Alycie. "I actually remember the letters." Eragon furrowed his brow.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Alycie looked up.

"Did you not know I couldn't read?" she asked. He shook his head. Alycie thought back. She had learned while Eragon was in Gil'ead, and she couldn't recall Murtagh ever revealing the details of their first, ill-fated visit in the city to the Rider. She told Eragon this, mentioning that she hadn't been able to read the pub signs, though leaving out the rest of her blunders out of embarrassment. Eragon shook his head, laughing.

"I can't read either," he said. "Or I couldn't until Brom taught me, but I've probably forgotten everything." Alycie felt heartened by this. She wasn't alone in the world of ignorance.

"I could help you start," she said. Eragon accepted the offer gratefully, lifting a book he had taken from the shelf and spreading it on the table in front of him. They read in silence, occasionally helping each other through places difficult to decipher.

Eragon's head shot up suddenly. Alycie jumped at the sharp movement. Eragon held a finger to his lips. Footsteps, loud and clunking, could be heard behind a nearby bookshelf. He swiftly and silently closed his book, slipping out of the bench. Alycie copied him, following him around the other side of the bookcase and up the aisle. He motioned for her to come to the corner, turning. He stopped abruptly and Alycie bumped into him. She looked around his shoulder and saw the Twins standing there. They bowed, though there was no trace of respect in their movement.

"We have been searching for you," they said.

"What for?" asked Eragon.

"Ever since you met with Ajihad, we have wanted to...apologize for our actions. We have come to pay homage to you," said the Twins, bowing again. Alycie narrowed her eyes at them in disgust. She reached for Eragon's mind slowly and carefully, but found it blocked. She retreated to her own mind once again.

"Nay," said Eragon, and Alycie saw his lips twitch, "it is I who pay homage to you. Without your approval I never could have gained entrance to Farthen Dûr." He bowed mockingly. Alycie stifled a laugh at the over-flamboyant gesture. The Twins looked irritable.

"We are honored that one so...important...as yourself thinks so highly of us. We are in your debt for your kind words," they said. Eragon frowned.

"I will remember that when I'm in need," he said. The Twins glanced at Alycie.

"We have searched for you too, for the same reason as we originally sought Eragon," they said. Alycie crossed her arms, walking around to stand even with Eragon rather than behind him.

"Why is that then?" she asked.

"The few magic users who live in Tronjheim have formed a group. We call ourselves--"

"Du Vrangr Gata," said Alycie dully.

"The Wandering Path," finished Eragon. "I know."

"Your knowledge of the ancient language is impressive," said the Twins to the Rider. "As we were saying, Du Vrangr Gata has heard of your mighty feats, and we have come to extend an invitation of membership. We would be honored to have one of your stature as a member. And I suspect that we might be able to assist you as well."

"How?" asked Eragon.

"The two of us have garnered much experience in magical matters. We could guide you...show you spells we've discovered and teach you words of power. Nothing would gladden us more than if we could assist, in some small way, your path to glory. No repayment would be necessary, though if you saw us fit to share some scraps of your own knowledge, we would be satisfied."

"Do you think I'm a half-wit!?" exclaimed Eragon suddenly. "I won't apprentice myself to you so you can learn the words Brom taught me! It must have angered you when you couldn't steal them from my mind!"

"We are not to be trifled with, boy!" said the Twins, suddenly derisive. "We are the ones who will test your abilities with magic. And that could be _most_ unpleasant. Remember, it only takes one misconceived spell to kill someone. You may be a Rider, but the two of us are stronger than you." They turned to Alycie, glaring at her up and down. "We offer_ you_ guidance as you further your magical power, seeing as you are a complete novice." Alycie straightened.

"I _have_ a teacher," she said. The Twins narrowed their eyes.

"Who?"

"The one who teaches me," said Alycie, shrugging. She savored the matching looks of annoyance on the Twins faces as they turned back to Eragon.

"I will consider your offer, but it may--" started the Rider.

"Then we will expect your answer tomorrow. Make sure that it is the right one," interjected the Twins, flashing matching harsh smiles and walking away deeper into the forest of bookshelves. Eragon looked at Alycie.

"I'm going to return to the dragonhold now," he said.

"I will see you another time," said Alycie, mustering a small smile despite the lingering anger at the Twins. She watched him disappear down an aisle, and then returned to the table. Just as she sat down and reopened her book, Ferros strode in.

"Did anything happen while I was gone?" he asked, sitting.

"Eragon came over, and then the Twins offered us positions in Du Vrangr Gata," said Alycie. "I declined." Ferros cursed.

"I missed the Rider..." he said broodingly. Alycie blinked, then smiled.

"If you want to meet Eragon, he's gone up to the dragonhold--"

"No, I don't want to disturb him," said Ferros, waving his hand. "But Ajihad alerted me to tell you that you may visit Murtagh now."

"This minute exactly?" asked Alycie. Ferros nodded. Alycie stood, pulling him to his feet gleefully. "What are you waiting here for? Let's go!"

"He's a few levels down in the good cells," said the guard.

"I know he's in the cells," said Alycie, tugging on Ferros' arm. "But I don't know where they are! Lead me! Why are you laughing!?" Ferros had begun to snigger, a wide grin crossing his face. Alycie stared at him expectantly, then rolled her eyes. "I don't care! Come on!" Ferros tugged his arm free from her grip, shaking his head, still laughing, and walked out of the immense library, turning towards Vol Turin, Alycie following close in his wake.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	29. The Reunion and the Writing

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Alrighty, here's the long-awaited Murtagh chapter! I am really going to have a hard time incorporating foreshadowing without the third book out, so the sequel to this fic (yes there will be a sequel) might come out a long time from now. Then again, it might not. But either way I have another Eragon fic in the making as well as several other fics I put on hold during the production of this one. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

The dwarf hit his fist on the door three times before working on the heavy bolt. Alycie glanced at the large man leaning on a battle-ax. He smiled at her congenially. She returned the smile, surprised by the good feelings surrounding what was supposed to be a cell. He turned his eyes to Ferros.

"How's the easy life, Ferros?" he asked. Ferros summoned a look of utmost ecstasy.

"It's wonderful beyond description. No late night patrols and no days without food; it's like living in a dream." The guard laughed as the dwarf unbolted the door. Ferros leaned close to Alycie's ear. "It's utterly boring, but better to keep them jealous." Alycie smirked. The gray door swung open and Alycie entered, closely followed by Ferros.

"Alycie!" came a joyful shout. Alycie suddenly found herself being lifted into the air in an all to familiar embrace. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. She felt his lips on her forehead and his arms around her waist. After a minute, he lowered her back to the ground.

"Murtagh," she said, leaning her face on his chest. The sound of the door closing behind them stirred something in her mind. She opened her eyes and turned around to see Ferros standing awkwardly behind her, arms crossed. She smiled. "Ferros, this is Murtagh. Murtagh, this is my escort, Ferros." Murtagh regarded Ferros with a level, calculating gaze.

"Ferros," he repeated. "You're her guard?"

"Er...yes," said Ferros. "I have orders to keep an eye on her." Murtagh raised an eyebrow and Alycie felt him tense. She looked around his cell. It didn't look like any cell she'd ever seen. In the center sat a large, well-dressed bed. On the floor was a plush rug, and there was a writing desk in the corner littered with ink and scrolls. On the other side of the room was a washbin. All in all, the room seemed cheery and welcoming, aside from the lack of windows. Murtagh looked down, noting her expression.

"Surprised?" he asked. Alycie nodded. "So was I. But as long as I don't cause trouble, Ajihad's entitled me to all of this."

"But you can't go where you want to," she noted. Murtagh shrugged.

"Even if I were free to, I would probably stay in my room," he said. "I doubt the majority of Tronjheim's population would be comfortable with my presence knowing my identity. I would have to stick to the shadows and remain in hiding to avoid those with deep grudges."

"But you would be able to stay with me," said Alycie. Murtagh nodded with a sigh.

"That is something I wish I could do," he said, kissing her forehead softly. Alycie turned her head, looking at Ferros pointedly. He nodded, banging on the gray door. It opened and he slipped out, closing it once more. She looked back at Murtagh, leaning up and kissing his cheek. He was staring at the door. "I don't like him," he said, turning his gaze to look at the healing scrapes on her neck.

"He's honorable," said Alycie. "And he's the first friend I've made here so far. He's nice, decent, he has morality..." She drifted off. Murtagh nodded, though his eyes flickered slightly.

"You know, you're not the first one to visit," he said. "Nasuada, Ajihad's daughter, came earlier today. Have you met her?"

"...No..." said Alycie, furrowing her brow slightly.

"Ah, you should see her. She looks as if she were one of the great noble ladies of Galbatorix's court. Better. Her beauty put the noblewomen to shame. And she walked with such a grace you never did see." He smiled reminiscently, though Alycie sensed the intended cold behind it. She pushed away from him, her eyes filling with hurt.

"Why do you do this?" she asked. He looked down at her stonily.

"I am merely stating the truth," he said with a shrug. Alycie looked away, the long lost tears springing to her eyes. She turned away and walked to the bed, sitting on its edge.

She raised a hand impatiently to her eyes, brushing the tears away. They came back. How she had grown to spite them so much in such a short time was amazing. They made her feel weak. Murtagh's cold resilience seemed to melt at the sight and he walked to her side, sitting down and sliding an arm around her comfortingly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean that." His hand stroked her hair and she turned, sniffing.

"I never cry," she said, hiccuping. "But last night I did for the first time since before I can remember because I missed you. And now...I can't stop..."

She closed her eyes and two more tears leaked out, sliding down her face. Murtagh wiped them away with a caring hand, pulling her in close to his chest. She buried her face in it. He stroked her hair soothingly.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I shouldn't have said that. I got jealous."

"I'm not angry," said Alycie, hiccuping again. Murtagh sighed, smiling.

"Let's forget this argument," he said. "What have you been doing?" Alycie told him briefly about her meeting with Angela and the Twins' invitation. Murtagh's face darkened at the latter portion of the story. "I don't trust those two," he said. "There's something terribly suspicious about them."

"I know what you mean," said Alycie. "They seem linked to one another, though that could be from the fact that they are twins." Murtagh shrugged. He glanced at the door.

"Does your guard know who I am? He seemed...oddly at ease when he was in here."

"He doesn't know," said Alycie. "I don't think Ajihad informed him."

"He will find out soon enough," said Murtagh. He sighed. "Why must the son carry on the burden of the sins of the father?" Alycie didn't speak, looking into his face piteously. He blinked and looked at her. "I've never heard anything of _your_ parentage."

"You never asked," said Alycie. "I don't think about it often."

"I think about mine constantly," said Murtagh, lying back on the bed. Alycie lay against him, playing with the material of his tunic absent mindedly.

"I never had cause to think of them," she said.

"Do you know who they were?" asked Murtagh.

"Yes," said Alycie. "Are you asking to know?" Murtagh laughed.

"Yes," he said. Alycie gave a small smile.

"My mother was a street rat from birth. She had relatives in high places, I hear, but I don't know who they were. My father was one of those people just passing through. He stayed a night, got very, very drunk, along with my mother, and the next day he was gone." Murtagh propped himself up on his elbow.

"Do you know anything else about him?" he asked. Alycie shook her head.

"No. He wasn't my blood father, though. He was Garrick's," she said.

"Garrick is your half brother?" asked Murtagh.

"I consider him a complete brother," said Alycie. " And I consider that man as much of a father as mine was. My father went in, went out, and that was it. I don't think he knows about me. My mother died giving birth, and I was left in Garrick's hands. I'm not sure if he's still living or not, but if he is, he's in Urû'baen. Garrick's blood father is dead for sure."

"How do you know?" asked Murtagh.

"Mother told Garrick that one bit of information about them. Apparently his father was captured by some soldiers in Urû'baen in a fight," said Alycie. "After my mother died, Garrick dropped me with a local who had also had a child, so that I may nurse properly. Her child died of illness, however, and she banished Garrick and I from her doorstep in distress. We met other urchins and orphans of the streets and lived for about seven years as a family amongst them. We were happy. Poor, dirty, and hated, but happy. And then the soldiers raided the streets, catching nearly all of us and locking us up. Some of the boys were spirited off to the capital to become soldiers, while the rest of us were put up for auction. Garrick and I were separated, and you know the rest." She looked at Murtagh, who was silent.

"I'm sorry," he said after a while. Alycie shook her head.

"It's ancient matter gone and passed," she said carelessly. Murtagh sat up.

"Hearing your story, mine sounds almost like heaven," he said. Alycie laughed.

"Your heaven acts as hell now though," she said, sitting up and looking at Murtagh. He looked her up and down, a grin spreading across his face.

"Stand up," he said. Alycie cocked an eyebrow, but got to her feet. Murtagh crossed his arms, nodding in approval. "You look beautiful," he said finally.

"And I didn't before?" asked Alycie. Murtagh got to his feet.

"No, no," he said, stepping closer to her. "The dress adds to your already stunning loveliness."

"You've seen me in a dress before," said Alycie. Murtagh scoffed.

"The dress you cut up to look like a whore?" he asked. Alycie smirked. She stepped back from Murtagh, looking up and down at his form.

"Well you clean up nice too," she said mockingly. "I've never seen you in a shirt and pants before." Murtagh laughed sarcastically.

Alycie was secretly impressed at his appearance, though she mocked it. Murtagh had been given a clean, nice-looking, indigo shirt and long, leather pants, and his greasy hair had been washed along with his face, which was wiped free of grime and dirt. He looked more handsome than ever.

"So what, in your safe and secure cell, have you been doing all day long?" asked Alycie.

"Mostly sleeping and missing you," said Murtagh. "But I've been writing." He pointed at the writing desk in the corner.

"Writing what?" asked Alycie. Murtagh shrugged.

"Anything that came to mind," he said. Alycie walked to the desk and sat in front of it, examining a quill in interest. Murtagh guided her hand to the inkbottle, helping her dip the feather and fill it. "You remember how to read? Just shape the words with the quill." He let go of her hand and she set it on the parchment. She looked at him.

"I don't know what to write," she said. Murtagh shrugged.

"Close your eyes and let your hand move where it will," he said. Alycie turned back to the paper, closing her eyes. She thought, picturing the words in her mind. Her hand began to curve and move in what the letters' shapes looked like. She opened her eyes when she'd finished and, wincing at the sloppy penmanship, lifted the parchment to her eyes to read. She squinted at the words.

_Two falen do  
A vixen spy  
And draw their bows  
Let arrows fly  
One doth meet heart  
The other head  
But dog bites one  
And renders dead_

"Interesting," said Murtagh, reading as well. "You spelled fallen wrong. It has two l's. That was quick for such a long poem. Where did you hear it?" Alycie looked at him.

"I didn't," she said. "I didn't even know what I wrote until it was there." Murtagh raised an eyebrow, looking at the ink shapes.

"Strange," he said. "Try again." Alycie took another slip of parchment, closing her eyes to think. Her hand began to move. Once more she opened her eyes when she had stopped.

_A ghost it seems  
In armor clad  
Is chained to one  
Who is but mad  
With shining blade  
And palm as well  
It fights the first  
On plains of hell_

"Alycie, where are these coming from?" asked Murtagh when he finished reading it. Alycie shrugged. He bent down, looking at the parchment closer. "You didn't think of it as you wrote?"

"No," said Alycie. "Is that bad?"

"Take them to Angela," said Murtagh, rolling the parchments up and handing them to her. "See what she thinks of them."

"Why?" asked Alycie, furrowing her brow as she stood.

"They seem...odd," said Murtagh. He glanced at her. "Just do it." Alycie shrugged.

"Alright," she said. Three loud bangs sounded on the door, making them jump.

"I think your guard thinks it time to leave," said Murtagh, straightening.

"It seems as if I've been here for hours," said Alycie. She embraced Murtagh, who returned the gesture. He kissed her lips passionately, then moving to whisper in her ear.

"Don't leave," he said.

"I should," said Alycie. "I'll return tomorrow."

"I love you," said Murtagh, looking her in the eye. Alycie opened her mouth to answer, but the door swung open, revealing the bulky dwarf guard.

"You aren't plotting anything important are you?" he asked jovially. His eyes turned to Alycie. "Your time here is up. Visitors must leave the cells after dark."

"Is it dark already?" asked Alycie. The guard nodded. She turned to Murtagh, embracing him tightly once again, before turning and walking to the door. She cast a last glance over her shoulder to see Murtagh standing in the middle of the room, watching her go with the same expression he had borne in Ajihad's study. The door closed, and he was gone.

Ferros led her stiffly out to Vol Turin, walking with her up through the levels. Alycie noted his slight rigidity with some curiosity. They paused a few levels down from their destination, resting against the marble wall. Alycie looked at the guard.

"What is it?" she asked. Ferros looked at her, then out at Isidar Mithrim.

"Not now," he said in an undertone. Alycie remained suspicious.

They climbed the remaining stairs, turning down the hallway. Ferros accompanied Alycie into her room, closing the door cautiously. He turned to her as she crossed her arms.

"Now what is it?" she asked.

"Murtagh," he said. "The warriors guarding his cell told me he is the son of Morzan the Forsworn."

"I told you he had a good reason for not being probed," said Alycie.

"And yet your greeting of him was so..."

"Passionate?" supplied Alycie. Ferros nodded. Alycie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "We have feelings for one another."

"Feelings for a Forsworn?" asked Ferros. Alycie frowned.

"_He_ is _not_ a Forsworn," she said defensively. Ferros regarded her.

"You think he is a good man?" he asked.

"I _know_ he is," replied Alycie. Ferros paused.

"Then I'll take your word for it," he said. Alycie blinked, surprised.

"Really?" she asked. Ferros nodded.

"You've known him longer and have a better understanding of him than I do, so, instead of prejudice, I'll follow your opinion." Alycie didn't know what to say.

"Erm...thank you...for your...understanding..." she said awkwardly. Ferros smiled, nodding.

"It's nothing," he said, turning and walking towards the door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," said Alycie. The door closed, and she was left alone. She flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Ferros had proven himself a true friend. And she had only known him for a day. As she closed her eyes and let sleep take her, Murtagh's parting words echoed back to her.

_I love you_

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!! Reviews make me feel popular :D**


	30. The Lesson and the Field

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Okay, this might be the T-rated chapter. Anyway, here it is.**

**Thanks for all of the reviews!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"What do you think?" asked Alycie. She sat on the floor of Angela's two-room suite, stroking Solembum's furry back. Angela's eyes raked the parchment she held in front of her.

"I think you have horrible handwriting," she said.

"About the poem," clarified Alycie. Angela looked from one parchment to the other, comparing the two. She put them down and looked at the girl in front of her.

"I'm not entirely sure, but they look like premonitions," she said. Behind Alycie, Ferros crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. He had been permitted entrance as long as he swore five times to Angela that he would not turn her in to Du Vrangr Gata.

"What do they predict then?" asked Alycie. Angela shrugged.

"They could mean anything," she said, placing the parchments aside. "But you wanted a lesson in magic, not fortunes told."

"Yes," said Alycie. Solembum trotted away from her and up to Ferros, who bent down and picked him up, stroking his fur.

"The only way I really know how to teach you is to tell you the words and watch you perform them," said Angela. "Do you know the risks involved?"

"Use a spell to advanced for your level and it could drain you to the point of exhaustion or death," recited Alycie.

"Very good," said Angela. "Also, anything you say in the ancient language, if or when you learn to speak it fluently, cannot be a lie. You could organize your words to hide the truth, but you cannot lie. Now repeat every word as I say it, without accessing your magic, and commit it to memory. Adurna is water."

"Adurna, water," repeated Alycie.

"Blöthr, stop." Alycie repeated it. Angela continued.

"Brisingr, fire. Hlaupa, run. Kidthr, catch. Slytha, sleep. Jierda, hit. That is one of the battle words. Rïsa, rise. That would be reisa in a command, for example, reisa du brisingr would be raise the fire. Draumr kópa is what you say when you wish to scry someone. Think of who as you say this and stare into a clear surface. Knífr is knife. The healing phrase, waíse heill, can be used to heal pretty much any physical injury. But be warned: the larger the wound, the more energy it takes to heal. You should start small, lifting pebbles and moving small objects."

"How do you raise a pebble?" asked Alycie.

"Stenr reisa," said Angela. "Why don't you try that for now. Leave the other words for later in your practice. I need to check on my toadstool, excuse me, frogstool and wormwood mixture." Alycie nodded, looking around the floor.

She found a small shard of marble and concentrated on it, accessing the pocket of magic in the back of her mind and uttering the words under her breath. The pebble quivered, rising slowly off of the ground. Alycie suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion overwhelm her mind and she released her hold, dropping the pebble to the floor.

"Not as easy as it looks," said Angela, chuckling. Alycie nodded, mustering her strength back. She tried again.

By the end of three hours, Alycie had mastered moving the pebble around and around the room. She had moved on even to levitating water in the air and had great fun smacking Ferros in the face with the little round sphere of liquid. Solembum remained silent throughout the entire morning. Finally, Alycie left with Ferros for lunch, walking down to the kitchens and getting the usual meal of mushrooms and meat. They retreated to the window where they had first eaten lunch, Alycie wolfing down her meal at high speed. She felt completely drained after the morning's practices.

"Miss...Alycie?" came a voice.

Alycie looked up to see a burly dwarf facing them. He brought his hands out from behind his back, holding out a sword with a slightly curved point in a new leather sheath. Alycie set her plate on the ground, standing and taking the sword from the dwarf. She drew the blade, gasping. All signs of rust had been polished away and the edges had been sharpened, gleaming in the green light of the colored lantern. The hilt was now inset with a blood red stone and polished to a bright shine. Alycie admired the workmanship for a moment, sheathed it, and looked down at the dwarf.

"My thanks to you and all of the dwarf smiths of the Varden," she said, bowing low. The dwarf inclined his head gruffly, turning and walking down the hall. Alycie leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, admiring the weapon she now possessed. She looked up after a time to see Ferros grinning at her.

"Want to spar?" he asked, setting his own plate down as well.

"Yes," said Alycie eagerly. Ferros got to his feet, pulling her up as well. He bent and picked up the dishes.

"Good. I'll return these and then we can go and get you a tunic. You very well can't fight in a dress," he said. Alycie nodded, following him.

They looked around several levels for someone who might be selling tunics that wouldn't extend more than three inches past Alycie's fingertips. Finally giving up, they walked back up to the top levels of Tronjheim and Ferros retrieved a set of his clothes, giving them to Alycie.

"They might fit," he said. "But you're so small."

"My curse," said Alycie with a laugh. Ferros smiled, leaving the room. Alycie quickly changed into Ferros' clothing. It was a little loose, but it would do. She tightened the belt a little more than need be as a precaution.

Ferros led Alycie down to the ground floor of Tronjheim. They walked out of one of the large, four, main hallways out into Farthen Dûr. Alycie looked around at the houses crowded close to the cobblestone street. Ferros pointed back around the large, marble city.

"The training field is about a half mile that way," he said. "Many people, dwarves and humans alike, go there to train."

They began to walk around through the streets towards the large field. The sound of swishing arrows thudding as they hit their marks reached their ears after a while, accompanied by the clang of steel clashing. Grunting yells and the jingle of mail followed. Soon, a great empty flat piece of land came into view, covered in scattered

patches of grass.

Great crowds of unruly men and dwarves littered the field, clashing their various weapons in combat. A long line of archers stood, stretching their bows, at the far end of the field. They let their arrows fly into small white targets that lay situated over 100 meters away. A straight block of soldiers marched in rows, obeying orders shouted by a man in front of them. Ferros led Alycie across the field to a small grassy patch. He drew his sword, but hesitated, sighing.

"I forgot to get armor," he said. "We can't fight with swords." Something stirred in Alycie's memory.

"Hang on," she said. "Give me your sword..." Ferros handed the blade to her. She nearly dropped it from the weight, but supported it on her arms, holding a hand over the blade. She closed her eyes, searching for the words Eragon had once said. "_Gëuloth du knífr_."

Immediately a spark of purple light began to dance between her fingers. She ran them up and down the length of the steel, flipping it over and returning her fingers to the tip. She felt a pull on her strength slowly tire her, but she quickly drew her own sword and caressed the front and back before releasing her hold on the magic. Ferros was feeling his weapon, astonished at the dull feel of the edges.

"Is this permanent?" he asked. Alycie shook her head.

"I can take it off later," she said. She unstrapped her sheath, dropping it to the ground and rotating her sword in a circle, ready to fight. Ferros dropped his sheath to the ground and took his stance, smirking at her.

"Ready to lose?" he asked.

"Are you?" asked Alycie.

She stepped forward suddenly, drawing her blade in an arc to his side. He blocked her move strongly. She slid her blade down the length of his, aiming for his legs. He twirled his sword and Alycie drew back quickly, avoiding her sword being spun out of her hands. He lunged at her. She parried. They walked around in a circle, like great cats staring each other down before a fight. Then Alycie lunged forward, exploiting a series of attacks in a flurry of movement. Ferros blocked several, but she succeeded in hitting his ribs. He didn't flinch.

Alycie backed up a few steps as Ferros took on the offensive. He was very good, though probably not as good as Murtagh or Eragon. Alycie found that she wasn't as awful as she thought she was. Murtagh and Eragon, in their superiority, had judged her wrong. She made a mental note to get at them later.

They fought for another hour or so, wearing their muscles down until they screamed with the effort. Alycie struggled to lift the sword to block, feeling Ferros' blade collide and slide off weakly. She caught the hilt with the point and jerked with all her might. Ferros let go without resistance, falling back onto the ground. Alycie toppled over, pushing her fallen sword so that it poked Ferros' arm lightly.

"Dead," she said, dropping the hilt of the blade. She rolled over onto her back, laughing. Ferros groaned.

"How are we going to get back up to the top of Vol Turin?" he asked.

"Carry me," said Alycie.

"No!" said Ferros, laughing.

Alycie struggled into a sitting position, taking her sword. She muttered a few words and ran her fingers over the blade. The spell was stripped away immediately, taking Alycie's strength with it. She reached for Ferros' sword. He helped hand it to her and she repeated the ritual. He sheathed the blade, pulling himself into a standing position.

"We'd better start walking if we want to get to the rooms by dark," he said. Alycie nodded, trying to stand. She fell to the side, feeling her power drop suddenly and unexpectedly. A dizzy wave washed over her mind and her eyes rolled back into her head as her eyes closed.

_An onyx cell lit by a lone feeble candle melted down to the wick alone was suddenly flooded with silver light as a big, black door opened. A figure dressed in gleaming silver armor strode in, square-shouldered and tall. His helmet hid his face, and behind him trailed a cloak of living midnight. He walked to the corner of the room and prodded at the wall. A loose stone fell out, revealing a shaft of moonlight._

_The helmeted head turned back and the small flame on the candle was whipped out into a tendril of smoke. He turned back to the wall, looking down. In front of him jutted a round bowl out of the wall, filled with clear water that shined in the silver light. A deep, grating voice spoke from within the helmet, cold enough to chill the bones of the toughest man and transform him into a shivering, wide-eyed doe under a raised blade._

_"_Draumr kópa_."_

_The water on the bowl rippled, displaying something blurred and unintelligible. The helmeted man stared, motionless. Then his head shot up, looking towards the stone ceiling._

_"Who is scrying me!?"_

Alycie shot up suddenly, clutching a hand to her head as her vision faded out in a head rush. She breathed a shaky breath as someone gasped in front of her.

"Alycie, are you alright?" it asked. Ferros. Alycie opened her eyes. She was in her room, under new sheets that adorned her bed. Her sword sat in a chair a ways away, and Ferros sat on the foot of her bed. He was looking at her in concern. Next to him, in another chair, sat Angela.

"What happened?" asked Alycie, remembering the field.

"What happened? You overdosed on magic is what happened," said Angela. "Fighting nonstop and conducting more than three spells all within minutes of each other? You must be mad. Ferros, here, had to carry you all the way up here over his shoulder. You've been knocked out for at least two hours."

"I'm sorry," said Alycie, looking at Ferros. He shook his head.

"It's alright," he said. "It wasn't too hard of a walk." He paused. "Well...nevermind, it was." Alycie smiled sheepishly.

"Well, since you seem to be doing alright, I'll take my leave," said Angela. She stood up and walked out of the room, pausing at the door for a last word. "Let her get some rest!" she commanded Ferros. The door closed.

"You should sleep now," said Ferros, standing.

"Thank you for taking care of me," said Alycie. He waved a hand carelessly.

"It was nothing," he said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," said Alycie. Ferros gave her a last smile before walking to the door and out into the hall. He closed it behind him with a thud.

Alone again.

Always it was when she was alone at night. Guilt set in for not visiting. Longing seeped from her heart, painfully attacking each breath. Sleep would not come; she knew it. Murtagh's final words still haunted her. They repeated themselves faster and faster, circulating through her mind at top speed, paining her. _Murtagh._

She sat up suddenly, a sense of calm distilled in her mind. Quietly, she slipped out of bed to the floor, pressing her feet into the leather boots that lay on their sides by the bed. She still wore the tunic from the training field, but she didn't stop to change. The door to the hall opened slowly and silently. Alycie peeked her head out. All lay dark and undisturbed. She slipped out, running out to Vol Turin and beginning her descent.

Low taps echoed up to Alycie's ears as her leather boots flapped along the marble steps. The spiral of the staircase grew longer and wider as the ground floor came closer into view. She kept close to the wall, avoiding the looks of the guards who stood at the four hallways below.

She turned off into an archway near the fifth level, edging along the marble wall quietly. She slipped around the corner, making her way towards the cells. Only the man stood guard this time, leaning heavily in sleep on his large ax. Light hands tugged at his belt, sliding the ring of keys off. There were not many, luckily, and soon Alycie had the right one in the lock, turning it. A metallic click echoed along the walls and she froze, watching the warrior sleep. He didn't budge. She withdrew the keys and slid them back onto his belt, buckling it once again. Now came the tricky part.

The latch was heavy and loud as it grated along its shaft out of the hole in the doorframe. Alycie edged it along slowly for a moment, pausing at intervals, then finally shoved it with all her might. It hit the end of it's shaft with a loud boom. Alycie froze again. The guard twitched, scratched his nose, and continued to sleep. Alycie thanked every god she could think of for the warriors' night shifts. She slowly pushed the door in...

...and pushed it shut behind her without a sound. She turned, her eyes landing on the bed.

There lay her dark angel, her knight immersed in innocent sleep where, save from nightmares, he was safe. She walked to the bed, kneeling to his level and looking into his face. No shadow of chaos was shown there. No clue as to his tortured past. He looked as if he were a young boy, incapable of evil of any kind.

Alycie stood, hesitating, before she climbed onto the bed. Murtagh didn't move. She reached out and touched his shoulder. His reaction was immediate and instinctive. He caught her wrists in a strong grip and rolled her over, pinning her to the bed, his face contorted in anger. It softened immediately.

"Alycie," he said. Alycie hissed lowly. He glanced back over his shoulder at the door, and then turned back in confusion. "What are you doing here?" he asked in a whisper.

"I couldn't sleep," whispered Alycie. Murtagh smiled incredulously.

"So you walked all the way down from the top to break into my cell?" he asked. Alycie nodded, grinning.

"Reckless," she said. Murtagh's smile faded and he released her wrists, sitting up and pushing his hair back off of his face as his heart rate calmed. Alycie's eyes stared at the long scar that marked his shirtless back and her heart filled with sadness.

"You shouldn't be here," he said. Alycie sat up.

"I wanted to be," she said. He looked at her.

"Why?" he asked. Alycie didn't answer. Murtagh sighed, looking away from her. She crawled over to him, placing a hand on his back in comfort. He shook her off. Alycie crawled over so that she sat cross-legged, facing him.

"I walked down here for a reason," she said. She leaned her lips in close next to his ear. "I love you," she whispered, kissing his cheek. She drew back, looking into his eyes.

He stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he lifted a hand to her chin and leaned in, pressing his lips passionately to hers. Their tongues entwined as his hands moved down her neck to her back, holding her close as they leaned back onto the bed. Alycie kicked her boots off, hitting them lightly with a bare toe so they fell to the floor silently. She moved her hands up Murtagh's arms to his back, tracing the slightly raised scar from the shoulder to his hip. Murtagh drew back, catching his breath sharply.

They looked each other in the eye, and Murtagh reached up to the tunic Alycie still wore. He unfastened it slowly. Alycie didn't stop him. She slowly reached down, stripping herself down under the sheets. Murtagh tossed her removed tunic aside and began to slip out of his pants as well.

They embraced, meeting each other's lips once more, entwining their fingers in one another's hair as they rolled over under the sheets. Their love was the only thing that mattered. There was no war, no Empire, no Morzan, and no Varden. There was only them. And their love.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**OOOOOOOOO!!!**

REVIEW!


	31. The Crisis and the Command

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Alright, quickly written chapter! Enjoy!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

A shout in the hallway jerked Alycie out of her dreamless slumber. For a moment she could not remember where she was, lying perfectly still, facing the wall. Then the memories of the night came flooding back to her and she relaxed, suddenly aware of the strong, muscled arms that held her around the waist. Behind her, Murtagh moved, lifting his head and kissing her on the cheek.

"Good morning, my love," he said into her ear. Alycie rolled over to face him, feeling her heart nearly melt with passion at the sight of him. She opened her mouth to say something, smiled and closed it, and, instead, leaned in and kissed him on the lips. He brought a hand to her face, caressing it.

Another shout sounded from the hallway, followed by running footsteps. A scream echoed from far away. Murtagh and Alycie pulled apart, looking at the door. Murtagh turned to her, his face serious.

"Stay here," he said, climbing out of the bed. He slipped his pants on, walking to the door. Alycie reached over the side of the bed, grabbing her clothes and pulling them up under the sheets, pulling them on in a hurry, her eyes on the door. Murtagh raised a fist and banged three times on it. "Aye!" he called. "What's going on out there!?"

The sound of the latch moving startled Murtagh and he stepped back. Alycie pulled the tunic on quickly and tugged the sheets over her body, holding her breath. She heard the door open.

"What's going on?" asked Murtagh.

"Urgals!" said the man. "They're attacking Farthen Dûr! Ajihad has ordered that Argetlam, Arya, and the soldiers collapse the tunnels to protect Tronjheim. The women and children are evacu--" He looked past Murtagh. "'Oo you got in there?" Murtagh furrowed his brow.

"I don't know what you're--" The soldier pushed past him, followed by the dwarf, who abruptly drew his sword and held the point to Murtagh's neck. The man walked to the bed where Alycie lay under the sheets. He pulled the cloth back.

"You!" he exclaimed. He turned to Murtagh. "Oh when Ajihad hears about this you'll be--"

"Don't blame him!" said Alycie quickly, getting out of the bed. She looked at the dwarf guard. "He didn't do anything. I came down here and broke in. Take the blade away." The dwarf didn't change his expression, but he lowered the spear somewhat. "He hasn't done anything wrong, therefore he deserves no punishment," said Alycie.

"They've been searching for you all morning," said the man. "Ferros is at the end of his wits. Blavon, could you guard him on your own while I take her to Ajihad?" The dwarf nodded, lowering the spear the rest of the way. The man took Alycie's arm in his strong grip, leading her towards the door. She glanced back over her shoulder at Murtagh, mouthing three words before they entered the hallway. The dwarf followed them, locking the door and taking his position dutifully.

Alycie found herself being led along the familiar path to Ajihad's study. When they reached the ground floor of Tronjheim, however, a figure disassociated himself from the crowd, running over. He wore armor and a helmet, but Alycie knew with a feeling of sinking guilt who it was.

"Alycie!" exclaimed Ferros when he reached them. He sounded relieved and exasperated all at once. "Where have you been!? I've been searching all over the city for you!"

"I--"

"She was in the cell," said the soldier. "Stole in there in the dead of night while we was all sleeping. She done went and gave herself the liberty of lifting the keys off me and letting herself in like any passing visitor."

"You nearly cost me my rank, low even as it was!" said Ferros angrily. Alycie shrank back, her hair dropping to hide her meek face. The soldier grew sympathetic.

"Now, Ferros, she acted rashly," he said. "But don't go too aggressive on her. We're to fight the Urgals, not each other." Ferros took a deep breath, straightening and nodding.

"Right. I'll take her to Ajihad, Lem. You can go back."

"Thankee lad," said Lem, turning and walking back towards the staircase.

"Come on," said Ferros with a sigh, grabbing hold of Alycie's wrist and leading her along down the side hallway. They walked quickly down the winding corridors, stopping at the large cedar doors of Ajihad's study. Ferros raised a hand and rapped his knuckles on the wood. He was granted entrance.

"Ah, she is found," said the ebony-skinned leader, looking up as they walked inside.

"She was in Murtagh's cell," said Ferros tonelessly. Ajihad narrowed his eyes, looking from him to Alycie.

"You were not to leave the vicinity of your guard, Alycie," he said sternly. "But now is not the time. We are preparing for battle. How have your magic skills grown?"

"I can do some, but not anything big," said Alycie.

"Can you fight?" asked Ajihad.

"Ferros would be a better judge than I," said Alycie. Ajihad's eyes flicked to the guard.

"She is...sufficient," said Ferros. Alycie glanced at him quickly.

"I would normally suggest you evacuate the city along with the women and children," said Ajihad. "But as you have not yet repaid our hospitality, fight your hardest in battle to do so."

"I will try," said Alycie, inclining her head.

"No, you will do," said Ajihad. "Take her to the armory."

"Yes, sir," said Ferros, bowing. He turned and led Alycie out of the study back into the corridor.

They walked without a word back through the atrium, past the crowds of people leaving with their belongings slung over their backs with crying babies in their arms. Out of the hallway into Farthen Dûr they walked, finding battalions of men arranged in rows making up blocks gleaming silver in the early light. Ferros led Alycie into a nearby tent. Inside was piled wagons and wagons of different armor.

"Pick out what fits," he said indifferently, "and put it on. Now...can I trust you to stay here while I get your sword?" He looked at her sternly. Alycie nodded. He continued to stare, unconvinced.

"Swear it," he said.

"I swear on my life I won't leave until you get back," said Alycie. Ferros hesitated, but turned to walk out. "Ferros, wait." He stopped. Alycie walked over to him and turned him around, looking him in the eye. "I'm sorry." Ferros shrugged.

"It doesn't matter," he said. Alycie wasn't convinced.

"I'm sorry...I truly am," she said. Ferros looked at her for a moment. Finally, he nodded.

"It's the past," he said. "It's alright." Alycie leaned up and pecked him on the cheek quickly.

"You're a good friend," she said. Ferros lifted a hand to his face in a daze. Alycie laughed. "Go get my sword," she said, pushing him out of the door of the tent. He staggered slightly, but walked out, his hand still on his cheek.

Alycie began her long dig through the piles of armor, dragging out a leather backed chain mail shirt. It fell below her knees and nearly toppled her from the weight, but she ignored it, pulling out some greaves and bracers and strapping them to her limbs, following with mail gloves on her hands. She pulled the dagger out of her boot and quickly severed the tangled ends of her grown-out hair so that it hung short on her shoulders once again, piling it up on top of her head and pulling a tough leather cap on top of it. She took a mail coif and dropped it heavily onto her head, topping it all off with an old, metal helmet resembling Ferros'. She turned and the mail shirt swung loudly like a long skirt.

"You need this," said Ferros' voice, making her jump. Alycie saw her sword and belt in his hands, held out towards her. She stepped forward and took them, strapping the belt around her waist and buckling it. It kept the mail in place. She pulled a tough leather shirt over the mail and tested the weight. It was very heavy. Moving would be trouble.

"How can you stand this?" she asked, taking a few testy steps back and forth. Ferros smirked.

"Why? Is it too heavy for you?" he asked. Alycie looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

"Well how am I supposed to bloody lift a sword in all this?" she exclaimed, pulling at the mail on her arms.

"You'll get used to it in an hour or so," said Ferros reassuringly. "Come."

They walked out of the tent and up to an officer. Ferros had a quick word with him before leading Alycie along the street towards a battalion of men a ways off in the distance. They were hammering sharpened saplings into the ground at the mouth of a collapsed tunnel. They reached the pile of rubble from the destroyed tunnel and began to dig, making a hole for the saplings.

Alycie felt sweat pour off of her skin as she struggled to move heavy rocks, feeling the metal armor take its toll on her muscles. Ferros acted as if he were wearing merely cloth, shoveling the gravel out of the hole with enthusiasm, if nothing else. Eventually they were called to take a break while others took over and they walked to the edge of the gravel mound, sitting heavily and gratefully accepting the wineskin as it was passed their way.

The trenches were soon finished and the other soldiers joined them, sitting and staring up at the buildings, whose roofs blazed with fires boiling pitch to pour onto the Urgals. Alycie looked around and spotted Saphira, clad in magnificent armor, sitting a ways in the distance. She and Ferros stood, walking over to them.

"Saphira! Eragon!" said Alycie, waving. They looked at her, puzzled at first. Eragon stood.

"Alycie?" he asked. "Last I heard they couldn't find you anywhere..."

"They found me," said Alycie, shrugging.

"You're not evacuating?" asked Eragon, surprised. Alycie shook her head.

"Ajihad has told me to fight to pay back the hospitality showed by the Varden," she said. Something sparked in her mind and she turned around, pulling Ferros forward quickly. "This is Ferros. He's been my gracious friend and escort," she said. "Ferros, this is Eragon." Ferros bowed respectfully.

"Argetlam," he said. Eragon clapped a hand on his shoulder, pulling him into a friendly hug.

"If you're a friend of Alycie's, then you're a friend of mine," he said. "Don't bother with the formalities." Ferros grinned.

"He's been wanting to meet you for some time," said Alycie. Ferros shot her a look and she laughed.

"Where were you when they were searching the entire city?" asked Eragon. Alycie bit her lip, shrugging.

"I was wandering around," she said. "Couldn't sleep." She immediately focused on a rock on the ground as the familiar brush touched her consciousness. A dwarf in armor interrupted the attempted purge on her mind. He sat down with a sigh, dropping his ax, and Alycie recognized him as Orik. They sat as well.

"All of the men and dwarves are on the battlefield. Tronjheim has been sealed off. Hrothgar has taken charge of the battalion to our left. Ajihad leads the one ahead of us," he said in exhaustion.

"Who commands this one?" asked Eragon.

"Jörmundur," said Orik. Saphira suddenly exhaled a puff of smoke, nudging Eragon with a claw. He turned his head sharply. Alycie turned her head as well, following his line of sight. Murtagh was walking towards him, dressed in armor as they all were, holding a shield, his sword, and Tornac's reins. Orik cursed, jumping to his feet. Murtagh quickly held up a hand.

"It's alright; Ajihad released me," he said.

"Why would he do that?" asked Orik in disbelief.

"He said this was an opportunity to prove my good intentions. Apparently, he doesn't think I would be able to do much damage even if I did turn on the Varden," said Murtagh grimly. Eragon nodded in agreement.

"How do we know you're not lying?" demanded Orik.

"Because I say so," said a deep voice Alycie recognized as Ajihad's. They turned to see him walking towards them, tall and strong, armed for war. He placed a hand on Eragon's shoulder, motioning for him to walk with him. Casting an eye over Alycie, he nodded in approval, turning and walking away with the Rider. Murtagh took a seat, setting the shield down next to him. He cast an eye around the rest of them, stopping as his gaze connected with Alycie's.

"You didn't leave with the others!?" he exclaimed suddenly. She shook her head.

"Ajihad told me to fight," she said. Murtagh turned his head away, shaking it. "I _can_ fight!"

"Yes, but _I_ can't, knowing I'll have to worry about protecting _you_," said Murtagh. Orik was watching them argue, utterly confused.

"You don't have to protect me," said Alycie. "You don't worry about protecting Eragon."

"Eragon is a Rider! He is much more skilled than you!" said Murtagh.

"I've been through nearly just as much as Eragon has," argued Alycie.

"No you haven't," said Murtagh.

"She can fight well enough, Murtagh," said Ferros suddenly. Murtagh looked at him.

"You've sparred?" he asked.

"Yes," said Ferros. "And she actually won. She's capable of taking care of herself."

"You haven't known her as long as I have," said Murtagh, staring the guard down with a piercing eye.

"Oh, so you think she can't take care of herself?" asked Ferros.

"Not in a war," said Murtagh.

"Murtagh!" said Alycie. He didn't look at her. She walked over to him, sitting next to him and leaning in so Ferros and Orik couldn't hear. "Do you love me or not?"

"Yes," said Murtagh immediately, looking at her. She stared into his eyes pleadingly.

"Then trust me," she said, kissing him. Murtagh stared at her for a long moment, then sighed, looking away. Alycie took that to mean approval.

"...Ferros, is that Alycie?" whispered Orik, pointing at Alycie. Ferros nodded. Orik mouthed an 'o' of understanding, crossing his arms.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	32. The Blade and the Hammer

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**I have no words to express how sorry I am for not updating for so long. And the bad thing is that this chapter isn't even long to make up for it. The truth of the matter is, our dear story is coming to a close. And for the last time, THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL! And this story won't be over until the words THE and END are at the bottom, for those of you who believe that every chapter is my last. **

**I must warn you, however, that after the end of this story has been reached, it may be quite some time before the sequel is written, up, and running. I'd like to thank you all for sticking with me so far and say sorry that school has begun to thrust test after test at me in these past weeks. **

**I've got an all-original story going on as well and that is becoming my main interest, but I swear I'll get on the sequel to this right after I finish up _Darkest Hour_ or even sooner if I get the block on that. For now, my goal is to finish this by the end of February, so yeah. Enjoy this short, but violent chapter.**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

"It's time."

Alycie stirred as Ferros shook her. She looked at the grave faces around her and shook her head, standing and drawing her sword. She saw Murtagh looking at her, but he looked away. She straightened and looked towards the tunnel, ready.

"How do we know they're coming?" she asked Ferros quietly.

"A scout ran out a minute ago," he replied. Alycie nodded. Her heart began to beat faster as the moments ticked by.

Murtagh mounted his horse next to Saphira, who held Eragon in her saddle. A man not ten feet away from Alycie suddenly jumped, pointing at the tunnel in alarm.

"I hear them!" he shouted. All heads turned to the tunnel, looking on apprehensively. No one breathed.

The roar of an Urgal rent the air, followed by thousands of answering shouts and yells. The big, black figures of the Kull appeared in the mouth of the tunnel. A cry sounded and the boiling cauldrons of pitch were poured down as the Urgals jumped out of the cave. Unearthly screams filled the ears of the waiting soldiers and they looked away as torches were thrown, igniting the black liquid that layered the monsters' skin.

The inferno lasted a fair number of minutes, but the Urgals soon tramped it out and began their charge once more. The line of pikemen lowered their weapons threateningly. The Kull continued to charge, roaring with bloodlust. The two forces met and an explosion of sound erupted from the armies as the battle began.

The Urgals pushed through the soldiers' ranks quickly and soon Alycie found herself fighting off a Kull alongside Ferros. She slit the beast's throat with her blade and he fell to the ground, only to be replaced by another Urgal, angry and roaring. She felled this beast as well and another took his place. So it went on and on in an endless chain.

Soon it became harder and harder for her to deflect the Urgals' blows. She was battling a particularly ugly Kull with his nose bashed and bloodied when she blocked a blow to the side. It had been a feint. He reversed his strike and it hit her head, knocking her to the ground. She lifted her sword just in time to block the next attack, feeling the vibrations move up her arm painfully.

The Urgal drew his hand back to strike again. Again Alycie blocked the blow, but the last of her strength left her arm and it dropped across her body as she lay panting, watching distantly as the Kull lifted his weapon a third time, gripping the handle with both hands, preparing to deal the death strike. Alycie closed her eyes and prepared herself for the pain.

Something hit her stomach and bounced off, but it seemed too light to be a weapon. She opened her eyes and saw the headless Kull standing before her, blade still held above his head, or rather his neck, as his head was missing. Alycie looked down and spotted the Kull's head lying next to her, blood dripping out of the neck wound. Someone pulled her to her feet and she whirled around to see Ferros standing next to her.

"You alright?" he shouted above the clamor. Alycie nodded, gripping her sword. They turned as another surge of Urgals began to run towards them and rejoined the fighting.

After a while Alycie felt the burning in her arms and legs intensify. The mail seemed to grow heavier and heavier, pressuring her until her head could barely remain upright. She let out a cry as her blade slashed through the Urgal's throat, leaving him with his head snapped back, a horrible rasping noise echoing out of his severed windpipe.

The fighting dragged on, and Urgal after Urgal fell to Alycie's blade as her tired muscles labored on. She discovered the horrors of war, seeing several people she had seen happily living their lives in Tronjheim suddenly find their heads missing or other limbs, blood spurting from their injuries as they cried out in pain. The kind guards from Murtagh's cell were cut down before her eyes, stunning her momentarily before the heat of battle caused her to jerk back to reality.

A blow fell to her helmet and she fell back to the ground, a ringing filling her ears, drowning out the sounds of battle. She tried to sit up, but her head spun violently when she tried. The Kull bared its ugly teeth, striking down with its war hammer. Alycie moved her arm to block, but to her horror she found it pinned to the ground by a freshly dead Urgal who had fallen heavily on it. The hammer hit and she felt the air rush out of her lungs. Her ribs must be broken. She coughed and tasted blood.

The Kull lifted his hammer again, but gripped it with both hands widely spread on the handle. With a roar, it brought the pointed end of the handle down into her middle. She felt the metal spike break through the mail and pierce her skin, sinking deeply into her body. She spluttered and coughed, looking at the huge weapon protruding from her center. Before the Kull could do anymore damage, however, an arrow pierced his head armor and shot through his temples, killing him instantly.

Pain enveloped Alycie, coldly choking the air out of her lungs. She tried to speak, but a sharp stab of pain silenced her. She closed her eyes as tears leaked out. Opening them again, she lifted her head, staring at the five foot war hammer embedded in her middle. She tried to lift her arms to pull it out, but the dead Urgal still pinned her to the ground. She took a deep breath, but winced and stopped, coughing as pain erupted in her ribs. Her free arm reached up and pulled her helmet off, exposing her sweaty, brown hair to the muddy ground.

She spat and saw the blood hit the dirt. Her arm strained against the corpse's weight. She was trapped. She stopped moving, her breathing slow and ragged. Darkness began to creep up in the corners of her eyes, clouding her vision. More tears overflowed from her eyes. She was dying.

The pressured ringing in her ears drowned out the sounds of the clashing weapons and yelling men. She could only hear her own breathing. Around her, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. She looked on dully, carelessly. It didn't seem to matter. A man was decapitated a few feet away and he fell onto the legs of the Urgal that pinned her. She watched him sadly as her vision blurred.

So this was death. It wasn't so bad. The pain was bad enough that any escape would be welcomed with open arms. But something made Alycie fight against the comfort. Something made her scream against the oncoming darkness. She was shaking now as the cold set into her skin.

Suddenly she felt pain and only pain. Every nerve in her body was screaming. Her every thought was drowned out by the pain, and all she could hear was the high ringing, the endless ringing. Opening her eyes, she saw another dead Kull draped across her legs.

She wasn't dead yet! She couldn't be buried! Someone had to find her!

"H-hel...he...help..." she rasped, wincing. A coughing fit seized her and she felt the blood leak out onto her chin. She felt a stab of pain from the blow to her head, but forced her eyes to remain open. "H-h-help!"

Nobody could hear her. The bloodlust and rage of war was too loud in their ears. A whisper would easily be lost in the roaring. Alycie slowly sighed, turning her head slightly. She looked at the crowd.

There was something strange. Someone was running out of the crowds of battling men, dwarves, and Urgals. He pulled the hammerspike out of her injury and threw it aside, heaving the dead Urgal off of her legs and the other away from her arm. He dropped to his knees and lifted her up, holding her close. She cried out as her ribs screamed with excruciating pain. The soldier tugged off his helmet and Alycie saw that it was Murtagh.

His mouth was moving, but she could hear nothing. His lips met her forehead and his fingers twisted themselves in her hair roughly. Alycie felt something wet hit her face and saw that there were tears falling from Murtagh's eyes onto her. His face was tortured, halfway between fury and intense, unrivaled sadness.

"I thought I could..." whispered Alycie apologetically. Murtagh shook his head, and suddenly it was as if someone had turned the sound back on, but only enough for Murtagh to be heard.

"You did wonderful, Alycie," said Murtagh. "You just...just missed a block..." He stopped speaking as he looked at her wound, bringing a hand to his mouth. Alycie coughed and looked down at her wound as well. There was a loud screech that echoed over the battlefield and all heads turned to the sky.

Dark, wispy shapes, like smoke on the wind, were flying up through the opening at the top of Farthen Dûr, spinning around each other in a slow-moving tornado. Roars suddenly filled their ears and they turned their heads to see the Urgals lower their weapons, blinking. They turned suddenly on each other, shouting and screeching. Then, miraculously, the Kull began to fight each other violently, ignoring the men and dwarves who now stood puzzled amongst them.

"What's happening?" asked Alycie.

"They...they've turned on each other..." said Murtagh. He looked back over his shoulder. "You need to get to Tronjheim. Your injuries will kill you if they go untreated." He stood and picked her up in his arms, whistling. Tornac trotted up and Murtagh placed Alycie in the saddle, swinging up behind her and taking the reins. Alycie's head gave a nauseating spin and her injuries shrieked in pain, and the darkness surged forward.

She knew no more.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

**REVIEW!!!**


	33. The End and the Beginning

**Disclaimer: Don't own _Eragon_.**

**Oh my god, is it? IT IS! THE LAST CHAPTER!**

**So I'd like to thank all of you reviewers out there for sticking with me so long! And the sequel to this will be up before the summer! Not much of a reassurance, but bear with me! Now enjoy!**

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

_On thieving heel  
The fox must fly  
With cloak and dagger  
To bare the lie_

"Alycie..."

_On thieving heel  
The fox must fly  
With cloak and dagger  
To bare the lie_

"Alycie, wake up..."

_On thieving heel--_

Alycie felt her body hit something hard and cold, shaking, her back racking in compulsions. Hands seized her shoulders and feet, lifting her onto a soft bed and holding her down. Her eyes shot open and she looked around, breathing hard. Her ribs hurt with every breath and she felt her stomach heave. Leaning over the edge of the bed, she waited until the waves of nausea passed, then lay back on the sheets, breathing calmly.

She looked beside her and saw Angela sitting on a chair, looking at her with a sad expression. Solembum sat in her lap, his eyes fixed on Alycie's face expressionlessly. Behind her stood Ferros, looking at Alycie with a concerned expression. And Murtagh was there, sitting on the edge of her bed, his hands in his lap, though he had the familiar wistful expression in his eyes and Alycie knew it took all his resolve not to embrace her then. She was thankful; her ribs were quite painful.

"What happened?" she asked.

"We won," said Murtagh. "Right before you passed out, the spirits of Durza were released from his body and the Urgals came out of some sort of trance. You remember they fought each other?"

"Yes," said Alycie. She tried to sit up, but Angela made a clicking noise with her tongue disapprovingly and she stopped.

"Eragon killed Durza. He struck him through the heart. That released the spirits."

"Are the Urgals gone then?" asked Alycie. Murtagh shook his head and Alycie noticed a bandage that encircled it.

"Some escaped through the tunnels. As soon as I was sure you would be alright I joined the hunt, but I was hit on the head and they sent me back here," he said.

"Where is Eragon?" asked Alycie.

"He was hit on the back and got a nasty scar, but he's alright. He's a few rooms down from here," said Angela.

"How am I not dead?" asked Alycie. "I was impaled on a hammerspike...right in my middle..."

"Almost through your middle," said Angela wearily. "Not many survive an Urgal plunging a spike the size of a horse's ear through their center, but luckily for you, it missed your stomach and liver and pierced your sternum instead. It would have been serious enough with that, had Eragon and Arya not summoned the strength to assist the Twins in healing you."

"The Twins?" asked Alycie.

"Yes, Du Vrangr Gata has been issuing different members about to heal those who are injured," said Angela. "They saved your life."

Alycie saw Murtagh stiffen on the edge of the bed, but he continued to caress a hand up and down her leg comfortingly. She lifted the covers and looked down at her body. Her armor had been removed and she was naked except for a few bandages around her torso. Her head began to itch and she reached up, feeling a bandage wrapped around her head under her hair. She felt the back of her skull and winced as a sharp pain erupted at her touch.

"We didn't heal everything, girl, don't be overeager," said Angela, standing. Solembum dropped to the floor, trotting out of the door. Angela followed him, but paused for a last word. "And don't try and heal anything yourself! You're not ready for that kind of magic yet!" The door swung shut and they were alone.

"Are you alright?" asked Alycie, looking at Murtagh, who was staring at the floor. He looked at her incredulously.

"Am _I_ alright?" he exclaimed. "Am I...I was afraid you'd _died_! You suddenly collapsed while I was riding you into the city and I was there, utterly scared to death that you might have died, spurring Tornac on until his heart nearly gave out, and running halfway up Vol Turin with Angela carrying your bleeding body in my arms, all the time trying not to ask myself_ 'What if she's dead'_"'. Three hours she made me stand outside the room, suffering the Twins' snide comments as they walked in while I stayed outside! She wouldn't even tell me how you were! Said I had better go back down and fight Urgals!" His voice became gradually more tortured and distressed. "So I did, worrying myself sick over you in the process, blaming myself for your injuries! Finally I was hit and sent back up! Angela let me in so she could bandage my head, but...when I saw you there...and all the blood...and you were so pale...I thought...I thought..."

He broke off, putting a hand to his eyes and turning away. Alycie heard him sob and saw his shoulders shake. She did not know what to say. He had cried on the battlefield as well, she remembered. It was unlike him. He bent over, putting his elbows on his knees and kneading his fingers in his hair. Alycie sat up, hissing as her ribs reprimanded her for moving. Murtagh looked at her with shimmering eyes, holding up a hand.

"Don't," he said cautiously, as if afraid that she were made of glass and would break if she moved too fast. Alycie ignored him, sitting up against the head of the bed. She looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

"It was my own fault I got hurt," she said. "I was too sure of myself. You were right, I wasn't capable..."

"Don't say that," said Murtagh, standing and walking to Angela's abandoned chair, sitting down and scooting to the edge of the bed next to Alycie. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it and caressing it against his face lovingly. "I never doubted your capability. You could defend yourself against a cavalry of Galbatorix's best soldiers," he said. Alycie looked puzzled.

"Then why do you worry so?" she asked. Murtagh bowed his head.

"I can't bear to lose you," he said. "The thought of life without you...I...I can't imagine it. And you lying on the ground with that hammer...st...sticking out of your...I...I can't...can't stop..." He shook his head. Alycie opened her hand and stroked his face, looking at him with a conflicted expression as several more tears ran down his face.

"Why do you love me so much?" she asked, voicing the question that had been silently flickering in the back of her mind ever since the day he had kissed her outside Gil'ead. Murtagh closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her hand on his face.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Why do you love me?" repeated Alycie, her voice choking. She realized she was crying and withdrew her hand from Murtagh's face. He opened his eyes and looked at her in confusion.

"What is it?" he asked. Alycie shook her head, turning her face away.

"It was a stupid question," she said through her tears. Murtagh stood and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over to kiss her. She turned her head again and he drew back, looking at her.

"Why do I love you..." he sighed.

"Yes, why?" asked Alycie, looking at him. "I'm a slave, you're a noble, I can't fight, I can barely use magic, I have no talents, I can hardly read or write, I have no knowledge of Alagaësia or Galbatorix or politics, and...and..." She stopped, looking at Murtagh expectantly. He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you finished?" he asked. Alycie nodded. "Then let me begin my list, but I warn you, it's long." He smiled, his sadness seemingly gone. Alycie sniffed and straightened.

"Do tell then," she said. "What makes you love me?" Murtagh scooted closer to her, looking into her eyes.

"Your happiness makes me love you," he said. "Your smile makes me love you. Your...innocence and your...freedom. The way your eyes light up whenever you look at me. The feeling of safety that I get whenever I see you. Your beauty and cleverness, and your endless riddles. The feeling of your hair in my face when we wake up together and the velvet softness of your skin against mine. Your warmth and kindness. Your lovely breasts--" Alycie snorted, laughing. She began to cough and winced at the pain, but smiled reassuringly at Murtagh as his eyes widened in worry.

"My breasts?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. Murtagh nodded, a smile stretching over his face.

"If it's true, why deny it out of modesty?" he asked.

"Is that the end of the list?" asked Alycie.

"No, in fact, I could go on for days or even weeks, but I doubt you would want to sit in such monotony of hearing your own angelic features listed," said Murtagh, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. He kissed along her face, finally stopping at her mouth and meeting her lips in a particularly prolonged kiss. Then he drew back. "I am actually more puzzled at why an angel could bear to love such a monster."

"You're not a monster!" exclaimed Alycie, shaking her head.

"Then why do_ you_ love _me_?" asked Murtagh. Alycie thought.

"You're always calm and collected...you're smart and handsome, and you always seem to have a better idea of what is going on and what could happen than I do." She stopped, looking into her love's eyes.

"There aren't many reasons, are there?" said Murtagh solemnly.

"You haven't heard the main reason," said Alycie.

"Oh, and what is the main reason you love me?" asked Murtagh. Alycie leaned in and kissed him hard on the lips, passionately pressing her face closer to his. They remained locked like this for several minutes before she broke off slowly, opening her eyes. Murtagh smiled slowly. "Oh, I see," he said.

"Will Ajihad lock you up again?" asked Alycie. Murtagh shook his head solemnly.

"No, everyone is too distracted by the remaining Urgals to really worry about what I could do," he said.

Alycie nodded, then felt the familiar dizziness wash over her head in a wave. She began to ease herself back down onto the mattress. Murtagh stood, helping to lower her onto the pillows. He watched her for a moment, then turned.

"Don't leave," said Alycie, lifting a hand out towards him. He turned back and took it, knealing by the side of the bed.

"I'm here," he said.

"You won't leave when I sleep, will you?" asked Alycie.

"Not unless you wish me to," said Murtagh.

"No," said Alycie.

"Then when will I go?" asked Murtagh.

"Never," said Alycie. Murtagh smiled.

"That applies to you as well, then," he said, leaning over and kissing her forehead. "Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight, my Dark Angel," said Alycie, feeling her eyelids drop closed suddenly as sleep seized her in it's warm embrace and carried her off to the land where dreams roam free.

**-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-**

_**The End**_

**Now it is the end. And that means that, for the last time, you all will move your little arrows down to the lovely purple button to the southwest, click, and type. **

**REVIEW! **

**THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT!!!**


End file.
